


What the Water Gave Me

by 1VariousStorms1



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, I write about gay sailors to ease the pain, Pirates AU, chapter titles are sea shanties, high seas au, listen to them they're great
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-08-16 02:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1VariousStorms1/pseuds/1VariousStorms1
Summary: It's been five years.  Five years since Adora nearly died.  Five years since her lifeblood flavored the ocean foam.  Five years since she found a mysterious glowing sword deep under the waves.  She's a captain now, delivering goods and ferrying Princesses across the seas of Etheria in her own rig, the Swift Wind.  Life is good, but she knows that something is missing.  A someone, more accurately.  The girl she unwillingly left behind, back on the deck of a dread pirate's ship.  Catra, who haunts her dreams and dogs her waking thoughts.  Will she ever be so lucky as to see her again?





	1. Randy Dandy Oh

_"Heave a pawl, O heave away! Weigh, hey, roll and go! The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored To be rollicking randy dandy-Oh!"_

* * *

_“_ _Do you ever think about getting out of here?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Off this old tub, I mean. Do you ever just… think of leaving?”_

_“Mm, sometimes, I guess. You?”_

_“I…” A sigh. “I want to be captain of my own ship. I want to sail under my own flag, as far as I want, wherever I want. I don’t want to be a deckhand for the rest of my life.”_

_She smiles at Catra in the dim light of the moon. “And what will the illustrious Captain Catra do on a ship of her own?” She says it teasingly, but she’s genuinely curious._

_She sees her cot mate’s face and ears perk up as she flashes bright white fangs. “I’d become the best pirate that’s ever sailed! I’d rake in enough loot to buy an island from the Crown and make it a home. I’d have the best and fiercest crew and together we’d have the most feared and respected rig on these seas.” She wiggles closer to Adora, as much as she can without jostling their small cot too much. “And you’d be there with me,” she whispers, her mismatched eyes glowing in the dark._

_“As your first mate?”_

_“As my co-captain,” Catra corrects, her fingers playing with Adora’s under their thin blanket. “It’ll be you and I in charge for a change. Making decisions, leading a crew.” She presses their foreheads together. “Fighting side by side, with all the wealth and glory in this world ours for the taking.”_

_“I’d like that a lot,” Adora whispers against Catra’s mouth, so close to her own. She is grateful for the night when their lips meet. The privacy and intimacy of this moment is a greater treasure to her than a dozen chests of gold._

_The kiss is sweet and slow, and she can’t seem to get enough of it. Catra’s tongue against her own is so tantalizing that she can only deepen the contact. It’s only when she feels the need for oxygen that she breaks away. She tries to breath, but her mouth is filled with blood and saltwater. She coughs, gasps, but she can’t seem to get any air, only succeeding in spluttering out more salt and copper and bile onto the deck as Catra looks on in horror. Her side is burning. She looks down and watches red gush from her stomach and ruin her linen shirt and jerkin. She’s freezing, all the warmth in her bones leaking out of the place where the lead shot pierced her skin. She holds her wound with one hand and reaches out to Catra with the other. Catra just stands there, stock still, mouth agape. There’s the percussion of a flintlock, and she gasps as the second shot punctures her chest, right between her ribs. The force knocks her back, and she’s falling, falling, falling forever until she feels the unforgiving bite of the ocean all around her. She sinks beneath the waves that beat against the side of the ship, down and down and down. A tendril of inky darkness is pulling her further below, until she can’t even see the refracted light of the moon. There’s nothing but darkness now, darkness and a pain that lessens as the cold gets worse._

_There’s nothing, nothing… _Except she feels her body shaking_. There’s nothing at all. _“Captain! Yo, Adora!”

She jerks awake, her eyes snapping open. She’s met with a wooden ceiling, with sunlight streaming through round windows, and with the face of Bow, her first mate.

“What is it?” She asks him, shaking her head to ease her disorientation. “Is something wrong?”

Bow shrugs. “Dunno about wrong, but interesting would cover it. We need you up on deck.”

“Alright, I’ll be up in a minute. Go keep a handle on whatever it is until I get there.”

“Aye, Captain!” He says brightly as he exits her quarters. Adora sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes and stretching. Messy locks of blonde hair fall in her face, and she hastens to pull them back into a ponytail with a sturdy piece of twine. Old wounds twinge as she climbs from her bed, and she rubs them absently, trying to put the dream out of her mind. She changes her shirt and tightens up the laces on her breeches. She exits her quarters and climbs the stairs up to the deck of her ship, and resolves not to dwell one moment on the past today.

On deck her crew is already hard at work preparing for their voyage. They had docked in Bright Moon three days ago to deliver a shipment of sugar from way down south in Half-Moon. Adora had spent most of those three days securing another job for them, and had finally gotten an offer last night, to ship lumber as well as valuable black powder down to the islands of Salineas far to the Southwest. A long trip that would pay well; Adora’s favorite kind of job. She surveys her crew loading on fat piles of wood and large barrels of gunpowder before she turns to address what is so “interesting”, as Bow puts it.

Standing in the middle of her deck is the Queen of Bright Moon and an entire retinue of guards, servants, and other nobility. The Queen, Angella, is an impressively tall and slender woman---a beanpole, if you listen to the rabble---who commands attention like ostentation is her natural state. Maybe it is. She is dressed elegantly, but more importantly, expensively, and her translucent wings fold behind her with effortless grace. She watches the sailors at work with a stoic expression that betrays just a hint of suspicion, or perhaps appraisal. Next to her is a significantly shorter and younger girl, who, unlike the Queen, is wingless, full-figured, and cute. Her sparkling hair is short and poofy, and while her clothes are just as expensive and well-crafted, she doesn’t seem as comfortable in them as the Queen. Adora takes this girl to be the ever-mysterious Princess Glimmer, who is rarely seen but frequently discussed in the streets and taverns of Bright Moon. Beside mother and daughter are a gaggle of people Adora doesn’t care to worry about right now. She’s wary of the Royal Guard, armed with spears and pistols, but they don’t make a move against her as she approaches.

Bow is already there speaking to the Queen, who doesn’t look especially impressed but is nevertheless conversing politely.

“Ah, here’s our captain!” Bow says as he turns around to see her. “Captain Adora, this is---”

“Her Royal Majesty, Queen Angella of the kingdom of Bright Moon. As well as her Royal Highness, Princess Glimmer of Bright Moon,” a mousy little man on the right side of the Queen spouts. Bow, while his back is turned to the royal party, rolls his eyes ever so slightly at Adora before stepping back to let her handle things.

Adora dips into a bow, just low enough to be respectful. “Your Majesty, Your Highness, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?” Even though she generally detests them, she can play nice with the noble types when she has to, mostly when it’s going to get her paid.

“Captain Adora,” says the Queen, in her smooth voice and high society accent. “You are held in high regard amongst my people and my court. Your services and conduct have been deemed exceptional by many a merchant in my capital.”

“I am pleased to hear it, Your Majesty. We here on the Swift Wind strive for efficiency and excellence.”

“That being said, what I am here to ask of you today is not a matter of transporting goods.” She indicates her daughter. “This is my daughter, Princess Glimmer. She has recently turned 18 years of age.” A big thing, that, when the heir to the throne comes of age. Adora remembers that they had docked on the same night as the grand ball held for the occasion. Being a bunch of lowly seafarers, they hadn’t been invited, but they’d made due in the taverns that were celebrating the event with women and ale. “As a foreign-born woman, you might not be aware of the customs in Bright Moon when a royal child comes of age.” There’s no obvious judgement or distaste when the queen calls her foreign-born, which earns her a point in Adora’s book. She gets called foreign-born (and other less pleasant synonyms) no matter where she docks, so she’s used to the descriptor. “When a Prince of Princess of Bright Moon turns 18, they are granted a particularly special request, which must be answered. My daughter,” and she says that with a touch of irritation. The Princess frowns but holds her head high. “Has requested to travel aboard a mariner’s vessel. In order to… broaden her horizons.”

Adora holds back a smirk. She’s sure her pretty, oh-so-refined Royal Majesty has much less courtly words she could use, judging by the lime-licker expression on her lovely face. That she doesn’t use them seems a great testament to her willpower.

“And you would like her to travel aboard the Swift Wind?”

“I have vetted you, your crew, and your vessel extensively. I will only accept the best for Glimmer.” She picks up her many skirts and steps directly in front of Adora. Now, Adora isn’t short by any stretch of the imagination, but the Queen towers over her when she stands this close. Her dark eyes are deadly serious. “My daughter wishes to travel for one year. In exchange for her safety and good health, I am willing to pay you a sum of 200,000 gold pieces, 50,000 now and the rest upon her return.”

Adora controls her expression, but she can’t stop her eyes from widening. _200,000? 200 fucking thousand gold pieces? Just for ferrying some royal lass around the South Sea for a year?_ She hears Bow whistle softly in the background. “However,” the Queen says, her eyes narrowing. “You will only receive the second part of your fee IF my daughter returns _safe_ and _happy_. Do you understand what I am offering you, Captain Adora?” Every syllable is sharp and pronounced, adding extra bite to each word.

“It seems right clear to me, your Majesty,” Adora says, holding her ground. “Aye, we’ll take the Princess, and she’ll sail with us for a year.” She finally steps aside to gesture courteously towards her quarters. “If you would prefer, we can discuss the finer details in my study.”

“There will be no need,” says the Queen imperiously. “I would prefer that you instead guide my daughter and I in inspecting your vessel. I must be satisfied with her accommodations before we can finalize our arrangement.”

“As you wish, my Queen,” Adora says neutrally with another quick bow. “Bow, with me,” she says to her first mate, and he falls in step behind her, the Queen, and the Princess. She leads them on a tour of the Swift Wind. There isn’t much to see, but the Queen is meticulous, checking everything for the slightest sign of potential risk. She pesters Adora with questions that she and Bow tag-team to answer.

When they reach the crew sleeping quarters, Adora is left somewhat awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. It wasn’t that the quarters were bad, per se. They were plenty good enough for sailors, but she didn’t have to check to know that the Queen was displeased. “These are the crew’s quarters. The Princess will sleep down here while we are at sea.”

“This is highly unseemly, Captain Adora. How can I trust that my daughter will be safe amongst your crew while she is sleeping?”

“Ugh, _Mom_!” The Princess groans. “It’s _fine_, stop worrying!”

“It will not be fine until I receive a satisfactory answer, Glimmer,” the Queen says crossly.

Adora hides her gulp and tries not to think of the heavily armed guards still on her deck. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, you’ve looked into me and my crew. You’ve heard what our associates say about our conduct. If you didn’t already trust that we would keep your daughter safe and well-treated, you wouldn’t have made the offer to begin with.” She gestures at the bunks and hammocks. “These beds are good for sleepin’ and mendin’, and whatever else. We keep ‘em clean and tidy. My crew are all of an honorable sort, who would only treat Princess Glimmer with the utmost respect.” Sensing that she wasn’t quite there yet, she adds, “You have my word that on my honor Princess Glimmer will be perfectly protected and cared for during her time with us.” She meets the Queen’s gaze steadfastly, allowing her honesty to come through clearly.

The Queen stares at her for a long, tense moment. Then her shoulders relax, and she sighs. “Very well. I am satisfied with the Swift Wind and with you, Captain Adora.” She wastes no time turning around and exiting the belly of the ship, with Adora, Bow, and Glimmer following behind. Back on the deck, the Queen rejoins her entourage. “I have been informed that you disembark for Salineas tomorrow morning, correct?”

Adora nods. “We’ll be settin’ sail round 10 o’clock.”

“That is acceptable. Tomorrow at 9 o’clock I will be here with my daughter and the first part of your fee. Until then, Captain Adora.”

“Until then, Your Majesty, Princess.” The Queens and walks primly down the boarding ramp, but the Princess turns around before she goes and smiles tentatively at Adora and Bow. Adora grins politely back at her, and she knows without looking that Bow is beaming. After she disappears after her mother, she feels her first mate’s burly arms clap down around her shoulders.

“200,000 gold! 200,000 gold, Cap, can you believe it?”

“Pfft, not really no. But that _was_ the real Queen presenting it to us, so I’m inclined to take her word.” She steps out of Bow’s arms and turns around to face him. “Listen up, Bow,” she says, using her authoritative captain voice. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We get the 50,000 tomorrow and take the lass on board. We’ll add into the crew’s pay as a bonus, but we are _not_ saying where it came from.”

“Why not?” Bow asks, scratching her head.

“Too much of a liability. People will do a lot for money if they want it or need it badly enough, and the fat heap of money the Queen is promising will tempt even the best of them. We won’t get a copper if some idiot gets it into their head that they can force an advanced payment by, say, takin’ the girl hostage and running off to the slave markets, or _worse_, tryin’ to mutiny and then demanding a ransom.”

“Ooo, yeah, I get your point,” Bow says, wincing.

Adora nods. “So, your lips and mine are sealed. I’ll talk to the lass too once she’s on board. If anyone asks, downplay the sum. We’ll divvy up the whole fee fairly once the princess is back in her tower.”

“Aye, Captain!” Bow says with a jaunty salute.

The rest of that day goes without issue. Her crew, hard workers that they are, finish loading up their cargo just before sunset. And when the sun rises again the next morning, Adora is already up and waiting by the rail for the Queen and the Princess. They are remarkably punctual, stepping onto the docks just as the church bells ring for 9 o’clock. The Princess is less elaborately dressed this morning, but Adora would still wager that her coat cost more than the Swift Wind. The Queen, of course, is still dressed to the nines.

Adora watches from the deck as mother and daughter make their goodbyes, sharing a long and tight hug as the Queen whispers into the Princess’s ears. The sight is… unsettling to Adora. It makes her chest feel somewhat tight. She knows why, even though it’s silly. She’s long past wondering who her real mother is or where she might be now, but seeing such fervent parental affection makes her wish, just for a moment, that she had had at least one chance to meet her. The closest she’d ever had to a maternal figure was Shadow Weaver, the sea witch, back when…

The old scar between her ribs twinges again, and she takes it as a warning. She sighs. _There’s no need to go down that path, unless you want more nightmares tonight_. Her Sword, strapped to her hip, offers comfort, the peculiar thing. She hears It whisper in her mind’s ear as It attempts to soothe her. She isn’t sure what It thinks to accomplishes because she is most certainly not soothed by hearing disembodied voices. She pats the hilt lamely to shut it up, especially now that the Princess is marching up the ramp toward her.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she greets cordially, offering her hand. That’s something you do for princesses, right? Glimmer takes her hand delicately and lets Adora guide over the last bump in the walkway and onto the deck. 

Glimmer lets go of her hand and turns, dropping into a curtsey that looks uncomfortable. “Good morning, Captain Adora. Thank you ever so much for allowing me to sail with you.” What’s that sour little twist on her mouth for? A chest carried by two servants comes up behind her, their pay no doubt. Bow, quick lad that he is, hastens to direct them to stow the gold out of sight before any of the rest of the crew see it.

The Princess turns to wave goodbye to her mother while those same castle servants come back to bring up a heavy-looking trunk, no doubt full of things a princess of Bright Moon can’t live without. Adora wants to roll her eyes, but doesn’t. Once the servants are off the ramp, they draw it up, and her deckhands undo the ropes mooring the Swift Wind. Bow takes the helm, and he guides the ship carefully off the dock and into the larger harbor. Glimmer waves to her mother once more as she gets further and further away, and then she turns to Adora with a bold and businesslike expression on her face.

“Okay, so, Captain,” she starts, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know my mom gave you a hard time about your ship and about keeping me safe, but honestly, it’s fine. I mean it, you don’t have to give me any special treatment.”

Adora grins because she can’t help it. This girl is cute and poofy and powdered, wearing a silver-trimmed velvet coat no less, and she’s asking for “no special treatment”. “With all due respect, my Princess, your mother made it… _quite_ clear that you must only receive our best. I’m not inclined to test her temper.”

“Ugh, don’t listen to her, she was just trying to scare you,” Glimmer says. She grunts in annoyance. “She’s so overprotective, but I’m not made of glass and I can handle sleeping on a cot with some sailors for a year.” She places both her well-manicured hands on her shapely hips. “_And_, I’ll have you know, Captain, that I can pull my weight around here. Don’t expect me to just sit around like some layabout. I can work, and I will work, if you give me a job to do.”

Adora snorts, another involuntary reaction. “What’s so funny?!” Glimmer barks, eyes narrowing. Suddenly, the resemblance between Princess and Queen is very prominent.

“Ah, you’ll have’ta forgive me, lass,” she says, still giggling. “It’s just, ahem, with all due respect, you’re a princess. Have you ever done work in your life? And I mean real work, not whatever tricky games you lot play in your fancy palaces.”

“_W-well_,” Glimmer sputters. “Not as such, but don’t think me incapable! I’m a fast learner, _and_ I work hard. I excelled in all my studies. And I was the best rider on the royal polo team, so I can do physical things too.”

_The best rider on the royal polo team, Drowned God preserve them_. But she takes a moment to consider this unusual princess seriously. “So of all the things you could have asked for on your 18th birthday, you asked to work on a trading ship?”

“Uh, well, Mom doesn’t really _know_ about the working part, but, essentially yes. I need something like this. To go out and see the world, not just look at paintings of it in my room. To meet people like you who actually have real work to do. One day I’m going to be Queen, and when that day comes, I want to be prepared. I want to know what it is to really labor on something, I want to know what normal people do with their lives, so I can rule from a place of experience with those things and better know what’s best for my people. Does… does any of that makes sense?” The Princess is blushing, rosy pink suffusing tan cheeks, and it’s a fair distraction to Adora. But she does answer.

“That’s quite a noble quest you’ve gone and set yourself, Your Highness. I can respect drive and honorable ambition. As you will’t then. You’ll work, earn your keep with the rest of my crew, and do so without complaint like they do. Understood, Princess?”

“Understood, Captain. And, please, call me Glimmer. It would be a little weird if my boss called me princess all the time.”

“Alright, have it your way. You’ll start with going over the ledgers. Follow me.”

“What? Ledgers?”

“Aye,” Adora says turning back around. “They’ve been needing a look-through now that we’ve finished our old job and got two new ones.” She raises an eyebrow. “Unless that’s not the kind of _real work_ you’re interested in?”

“N-no!” The Princess quickly protests. “I’ll do it, and better than anyone you’ve had before! I just… was expecting something more exc… ah, involved.”

Adora softens her smirk into a pleasant smile. “You’ll start with that. Show me you can do it, and then we’ll see about more _involved_ work. Deal?”

Glimmer sighs, but then grins confidently. “It’s a deal.”

“Then follow me, Glimmer.”


	2. Running Down to Cuba/Sail Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Running down to Cuba with a load of sugar, weigh, me boys, to Cuba! Make her run you, lime juice squeezes, running down to Cuba!"
> 
> "When they come for you, come running for the shore! Sail away, Sail away, Sail away! 'Til ya see the coast no more, sail like no one else before! Sail away, Sail away, Sail away!"

The first month of the voyage is unremarkable. The Princess, despite her initial grumbling, demonstrates an admirable work ethic and a sharp mind. She conducts a full reorganizing of the Swift Wind’s ledger as well as an up-to-date inventory. She calculates the pay bonus for the crew and sees that each of Adora’s swabbies gets their fair and equal part of the profit. She puts the rest toward hypothetical ship maintenance with Bow’s guidance, creating a budget they could consult should the Swift Wind need repairs at any point. She and Bow even become good friends and near-constant companions during this time, playfully bantering back and forth as they go about their work.

Adora admits that she’s impressed, and tells the Princess so. “Well, it’s not a big deal,” Glimmer says, though her pink cheeks suggest she relishes the praise. “I used to do stuff like this with my Aunt Castaspella. Or rather, she did it and I watched, but I picked up a lot from that.” She scuffs the toe of her boot against the deck. “Plus, it wasn’t a bad system that you had before. I just made it more organized.”

“Regardless, I appreciate it, lass. You’ve set us up proper well for when we dock in Salineas.”

Mention of their destination excites the Princess. “Soooo, how much longer until we get there?” She asks, as subtle as a shark chomping on your ass.

“To Salineas, it’ll be another two weeks, but in two days we’ll be docking in Seaworthy to resupply.”

Glimmer tilts her head. “Seaworthy? I don’t think I’ve heard of that city.”

Adora chuckles. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. One, it’s not a city, it’s a glorified pile of mud and sticks. And two, it’s not a place where highborn ladies like you should want to find themselves.”

“Why is that?” She leans in, whispering. “Are there pirates?” She just looks more excited.

“Aye, a few,” Adora concedes. “But you’re more likely to find slavers.”

Glimmer pulls back, disgusted. “Ugh, what loathsome criminals. It’s despicable what they do, thinking they can just kidnap people and sell them off to the highest bidder. I’m so glad we never let that happen in Bright Moon.” Adora does not mention that the slave markets in Bright Moon are just underground rather than out in the open. It doesn’t feel like the right time to enlighten the Princess about that. “I feel bad for Princess Mermista though,” Glimmer is saying. “I know she’s outlawed slavery like most of the kingdoms, but she doesn’t have the resources anymore to enforce the ban. When I’m Queen, I hope to fix that.”

“You’ve got a whole laundry list of noble aims, don’t you?” Adora says, softening her words with a fond smile. “You might be the only highborn I’ve ever met who concerns themselves overly much with the woes of commoners.”

Glimmer makes an irritated noise. “Don’t remind me. I’m so sick of the people in Mom’s court, that’s half the reason I left. I know she’s sick of them too, but as Queen she has to play their games. I’ll change that too when I ascend the throne.”

“Mm. Well, for now, you’re a deckhand, not a queen. And I think it’s time we start you on some other tasks.” Glimmer’s eyes light up at that, and she listens attentively as Adora deftly explains the ropes of maintaining the upkeep on a ship.

She did not undersell Seaworthy to Glimmer. It is exactly as she described, a glorified pile of sticks and mud. Ramshackle wooden buildings dot the sand alongside cramped-looking huts. It’s bustling and crowded the way a port town should be, but the people are of a mean and slovenly sort. The slavers are easy to identify, as they are the only people in relatively nice clothes. The pirates are also easy to spot, as they are usually drunk and/or fighting. From where she stands at the helm guiding the ship to the dock, she can already see one nasty-looking fistfight going on at an open-air seaside tavern. To her right, Bow hisses sympathetically when one combatant smacks a half-full bottle of rum against the other’s face, shattering it in an explosion of glass and syrupy brown liquor. “You _never_ let it get to bottle-smashing time,” he says, shaking his head. “Bottle-smashing time is the big N-O.” Adora hums in agreement as she carefully steers the ship close enough for her crew to jump down and secure it.

Once they are successfully moored, she descends from the helm to meet her crew where they gather on the deck. Glimmer is there too, standing next to the bucket and mop she’d been using to swab the deck just moments before. The Princess has taken less well but still admirably to the physical labor of ship care, and Adora figures it bodes well for the girl’s lofty ambitions. “Alright, you lot,” she says loudly. “You’ve got the day and night to yourselves. You’ve been given your pay. I’ll be expecting t’see you all bright and early when we leave tomorrow, so if you drink yourselves silly and miss the ride, you’ll have none to blame _but_ yourselves. And remember the rules: no killing, no thieving, and if I see any of you eyeing the slave auctions, I’ll remove that eye myself. Got me?” She isn’t ashamed to admit she channels some of her old crewmates’ attitudes to drive home the threat. She remembers how Octavia, that great tentacled beast of a woman, used to snarl and shout and wave her axe around whenever she saw swabbies breaking the rules aboard the Fright Zone, the ship where Adora was raised. She won’t wave the Sword around, but she’ll project the same intimidating air.

There is a chorus of assent from her underlings as they all make their way to the ramp. “Glimmer,” Adora calls, gesturing for the Princess to follow her into her quarters. Bow follows as well, being sure to lean against the door securely after they shut it.

“Whaaat is it, Cap?” Glimmer asks, concerned.

“I’ll get straight to the point, shall I?” Adora crosses her arms and adopts a serious face. “Glimmer, it is not safe for you in Seaworthy.”

“_What?_ Are you stopping me from going?” She looks ready to launch into a royal tirade, but Adora raises a hand to quickly put a stop to that.

“I didn’t say that. Don’t go putting words in my mouth. What I _am_ saying is that you’re the Princess of Bright Moon. You’re the highest of the highborn, and you can dress down and grease your hands all you want but you’ll still smell like a noble’s kid. And in a place like this, that doesn’t make you respected. It makes you _valuable_. I told you Seaworthy is full of slavers and pirates, and I meant it. If they notice you and manage to get you alone…” She doesn’t _want_ to frighten Glimmer but she needs the girl to see sense, so she looks the Princess in the eyes with all the sincerity in her heart. “You will never see your home again.”

It works. Glimmer, for the first time since coming aboard, looks afraid. “So, so what do we do, then? I’m not going to let some lowlife crooks and thugs keep me shivering on my cot, Captain.” But there’s that determination, the fire Adora is getting used to seeing. Glimmer visibly rallies herself, straightening to her full (miniscule) height. “What do we need to make this work?”

Adora smiles. She really does like this poofy noble’s girl. “Well, lassie, what we need is to be smart about this. Bow!”

“On it, Cap!” Her first mate drags the chair from the desk and places it down in front of the Princess. “Take a seat, Glim!”

“Um, okay.” Once she’s seated, Bow places a wash rag around her neck. “What’s this for--- Hey! You just dumped water on me!”

“Relax, girl,” Bow says as he sets a now empty bucket aside. “I’m just getting your hair wet.”

“What for?” Glimmer pouts, crossing her arms.

“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, Glim. Your hair is pretty but it’s also reeeeally noticeable. We _have_ to do something about it before we go into town.”

“What’s the point? Will they really be able to spot me just by my hair?”

Adora shrugs as Bow starts to work his hands through the girl’s sodden locks, molding them into a new shape. “Pink and purple hair that naturally sparkles isn’t exactly common, lass. You’d be surprised how quickly the wrong people can connect the dots. Don’t worry, it’s just for while we’re here.”

Glimmer allows her hair to be fixed, though her brow scrunches when Bow finishes by securing a bright blue kerchief over her head, hiding all her hair from view. She touches it experimentally when Bow steps away. From her expression, it’s far from ideal, but it’s tolerable.

“That’s good. Just a few more things we need,” Adora says. She goes to her modest footlocker and pulls out a burgundy frock coat she normally keeps for windy days on the water. “Put this on.”

“Um, sure, Captain, but uh…” Glimmer looks Adora up and down. Her eyes are appreciative. “You know I’m nowhere near your size, right?”

“Yeesss,” Adora drawls patiently. “I’m well aware, but this shouldn’t be too big on you. It’s a normal coat on me so it’ll just be a long coat on you. Nothing to be remarked upon.” Once Glimmer’s put the coat on over her working clothes, Adora rustles through her locker for the last and most important touch. “There’s just one more thing.”

“Oh?”

“This,” Adora says, presenting the Princess with a curved knife that gleams in the sunlight. It’s a simple weapon, but well-made. No decorative touches, just a wicked edge sharp enough to cut flesh like butter.

Glimmer takes it from her hand like she’s holding a fragile ornament. “Are you sure?” She asks, displaying a rare moment of self-doubt. “I’ve never really used a weapon before, unless you count a polo mallet.”

“And hopefully you won’t need to use it today, but I won’t feel right about this unless I know you at least have something to defend yourself with. The basics? Go for the gut, and the neck. If you can get around them, strike at the back, as hard and as fast as you can, then get out of there.” Adora rests a hand on the Princess’s shoulder. “Never fight when you can run. It’s different for people like Bow and I, we have lots of experience with fightin’. But you don’t, and scarpering off with damaged pride is better than getting gutted like a fish.”

Glimmer takes a tighter grip on the hilt. “I understand, Captain.”

Adora nods, satisfied. “That’s good then. While we’re off the ship, I’d still like for you to stick close to me. I don’t need ya locked to my hip, but try not to get out of sight.”

Last minute preparations complete, the trio leave the captain’s quarters and climb the steps to the deck once more. When Adora looks around, she notices that another ship has docked next to the Swift Wind. She doesn’t recognize the flag it flies, but the design catches her attention. It’s a bright red depiction of a snarling jungle cat set against a field of black, the quintessential brigand’s color. This is a pirate vessel, and an impressive one at that. While the Swift Wind is a modified Argosy, meant for hauling cargo, this ship is a sleek and well-maintained Chebec, built for speed and maneuverability, a marauder’s two best friends next to sheer firepower.

She can see some of said marauders lazing about on the deck, assuming the majority must be off to drink with the rest of the sailors. Troubling though it is to be right next to such a potentially dangerous vessel, she decides not to worry about it right now. While it’s obvious that the Swift Wind is a cargo rig, the actual cargo itself is hidden away from potentially avaricious attention. It also helps that they don’t fly the colors of any of the kingdoms, and therefore are unlikely to be mistaken as a treasure ship. There’s no reason at all for an outsider to suspect them of carrying valuable black powder or a foreign royal passenger.

She tightens her belt where she’s fastened the Sword in its sheath, and her thumb strokes the handle. The peculiar metal of the pommel warms her skin, like a reassurance. Glimmer and Bow follow at her heels as she steps onto the rickety dock and then to the crystal white sands of Seaworthy.

The fight from earlier has long since wound down, though she doesn’t know who ultimately won. The other tavern patrons are back to carousing as if nothing happened, now with some of her own crew among them. She leaves them to it, walking past the buildings that court the wrath of the tide and heading deeper into the settlement. Bow, well-acquainted with Seaworthy’s layout, is quick to wander. Glimmer, conversely, sticks to Adora like glue. She glances at the Princess surreptitiously. She doesn’t see fear or trepidation, but it’s entirely likely that the girl just has a very good poker face, especially judging by how she keeps reaching for the knife on her belt, as if to make sure it’s still there. Adora chooses not to bring it up. She knows that Glimmer is tougher than the sorry dogs of this pit and that she’ll start feeling more comfortable soon. She allows the girl to knock into her hip every few seconds anyway, until she gets her feet under her.

The place they need to visit is what passes for a general store and trading post in a den of drunkards and outlaws. Seaworthy’s resources are limited, but they only need a few crates of fruit and barrels of fresh water to get them to Salineas. To reach the store, they have to walk by the slave market. It’s far from ideal, but it’s the fastest route to and from, and there’s always a chance the auction stage will be empty today. Adora always hopes and prays that it is whenever she has to walk by. She has a bad history with such places, to say nothing of their inherent horribleness. She quite vividly remembers when some slavers tried to put _her_ in chains and drag her to market, though not this one specifically. That had ended with her killing them, all seven of them, with the Sword. Bow had been with her at the time, also in chains, and they’d both been run out of town in the aftermath. _It’s an interesting way to meet your best friend, if nothing else,_ she thinks, fondly.

They walk around the corner on the correct road and Glimmer stops dead. Adora almost runs into her, and when she gets a look at the girl’s face, she understands. The Princess’s mouth is hanging open, and her eyes are filled with shock and horror. Adora doesn’t have to look to know why. She can hear it. Shouting, the bellow of an auctioneer, the clanking of manacles. A symphony of greed and cruelty. They are not lucky today. The flesh market is in full swing.

“Ah man,” Bow groans, walking up to Adora and Glimmer from one of the other shops. “This is not what I wanted to deal with today.”

“I can’t believe it,” Glimmer whispers. “I mean, I knew they existed _theoretically_, but I never thought…”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Adora says, though the words are bitter on her tongue. She looks away. “Let’s g---”

A cry from the stage has her turning back abruptly. It’s wrong, it’s too young. Her gaze follows the sound to its source, and she gasps. A kid… a little boy, gods he can’t be older than 8. He’s dressed in little more than dirty rags, and the auction guards have dragged him out of an iron cage full of other kids. The Sword vibrates in its sheath, rattling violently of its own accord. But Adora’s gaze doesn’t leave that little boy, even as she sees several other children pulled out onto the stage in chains. She doesn’t register anything beyond the tears rolling down their dirty faces and the deafening screech of the Sword consuming her thoughts. She hears It speak, feels Its command in her bones. **_Act Now._**

“Captain, _Captain_!” Suddenly, Bow is there, standing in front of her, and he’s pushing her shoulders back desperately. “You can’t! You know you can’t!”

“There are children on that stage, Bow,” she growls, and her voice is the thousand voices of the Sword, all of them raging and screaming for _justice_. She tries to pull the Sword free as it hums in her grip, but then Glimmer’s hands are clamped around her own as the Princess does her damndest to stop Adora from drawing the weapon.

“I _know_,” Bow says, his words cutting through the sobs of the babes, and she turns from the awful scene to meet his brown eyes, finding them full of sorrow. “I know, Adora, but you can’t help them like this. Even with the sword, there’s too many people here. They’ll shoot you dead before you can even get up there! You know they will, they won’t hesitate! _Urrgh_, help me out here, Glim,” he says as he throws his all his body weight into keeping her at bay.

“Uh! Hey, Captain, Adora, how about we step away for a minute, huh?” Her voice is high-pitched with fear. “Maybe talk a walk, get a drink, go look at seashells? How ‘bout it?” She grunts with the effort of trying to shove Adora’s hand back down and pry her fingers from the Sword’s hilt. “Oh, and maybe we could stop aggressively speaking in gibberish? That sounds like a great plan to me!”

Adora hadn’t realized she was still talking. The common tongue she knows has been replaced by the bizarre language she only hears in her dreams. She only vaguely understands the words coming out of her mouth. _Vengeance. Retribution. Balance. Honor. Grayskull_. The Sword is speaking through her, _acting_ with her body. She _must_ carry out Its will.

“Oh man!” Bow’s voice is distant from her now, nearly drowned out by the shrieking and sobbing. “I’ve got no choice. Adora, you’ll thank me for this later!” The hands on her shoulders vanish and, freed at last, she puts the first foot forward towards justice and victory and honor for Grayskull and---

Bow punches her squarely in the eye.

Her vision explodes with stars and she stumbles back from the unexpected blow, losing sight of the stage as she falls on her ass. She puts the hand that had been on the Sword over her screaming, throbbing eye and curses so violently Glimmer squeals in shock. “Bow!” She snarls, glaring murderously up at the man’s face. “_What the fuck was that for?_”

“_That_ was to stop you from getting yourself and the two of us killed,” Bow says unapologetically. He isn’t fazed by her ire, merely raising a single, judgmental brow until she begrudgingly settles down. The Sword is still screeching in her brain, but she can move on her own again and she chooses to stay put. After she sits in the dirt for a minute and takes a few deep breaths, Bow offers her a hand up that she accepts with a huff, and he forcefully turns her body away from the auction. “Adora, you’ve got to go back to the ship.”

“I’m _fine_ now, Bow, I just need some air.”

“Yes, air you can get back on the deck of the Swift Wind, _away_ from here. Come on, let’s move.” He has to stand on his toes to do it, but he wraps an arm around her shoulders and politely but firmly leads her back down the road to the shore.

“I don’t need to be coddled,” she snaps, trying to shrug him off to no avail.

“Um, Adora,” Glimmer, who is walking to her left, says hesitantly. “Do you know how you looked back there?” The harsh remark she was about to make gets stopped in its tracks. Because, truthfully, she doesn’t know. The Sword has never taken control of her body before. It’s helped her in battle, sure, sharpening her reflexes and gently guiding her steps. But this forceful demanding, acting out in her skin, speaking Its words with her mouth and calling for bloodshed in the name of Grayskull **_GrayskullGrayskullGrayskull_**? She doesn’t know what that was or what to do about it. 

She clutches her head as it pounds mercilessly. The Voices give her no peace, only hounding her to charge and to fight.

No, she doesn’t know how she looked. But if all of this, Glimmer’s expression, and Bow punching her in the face are anything to go by, it was bad. Very bad.

She lets the two of them lead her away from the auction area. Once they get back to the seaside bar, Bow lets her go. “Glim and I will take care of the resupply. You go get some rest, okay Cap?”

“Yeah sure,” Adora says dully. The Sword seems to settles as they get farther and farther from the stage, and it takes all her energy with it when it quiets. She feels like she just swam through a storm. Bow pats her on the back and Glimmer smiles at her reassuringly.

They leave her alone on the beach as they walk back into town. Once they’re gone, her shoulders slump, and she glances dismally down at the blade on her hip. She’s glad that It’s calm again, but now she has a million questions and no way of getting a single answer. _Nothing new there_, she thinks as she sits down in the sand, wiping sweat from her forehead. The sun warms her skin as she rests and it eases away some of the tension in her body. A stiff drink or three will take care of the rest, she knows.

She shuts her eyes and breathes deeply, taking in the salt air. When she opens them again, she catches a glimpse of dark-furred, pointed ears in her periphery. Brow furrowing, she looks around, but only sees the end of a feline tail disappearing behind a shack far down the beach. Surely…

_No_. _Don’t be ridiculous_, she chastises herself, shaking her head. There are plenty of cat-folk that take to the sea, even ones who aren’t orphans raised on pirate ships with big dreams, warm hands, and soft lips. Sighing, she takes this as her cue to finally go back to her ship. As she does, she passes by a group of sailors playing some dice game on the dock. They look up at her she walks by, and she gets a bad feeling from their stares. She meets them head-on, of course, because she won’t let anyone intimidate her (again). The Sword whispers a warning.

One of them, a scorpion-woman even bigger than she, stands up, and Adora’s jaw tightens with tension. The woman, who has short white hair and large red claws and tail, smiles brightly at her. “Hi!” She says cheerily. “Don’t pay no mind to us, unless you’re likin’ to join our game.”

Adora manages to smile back courteously. “Thanks, I’ll be havin’ to pass today. I’ll wish ya a fine bout though.”

“Alright,” the woman says, unfazed. “Bye!” She waves a bulky pincer before she sits back down with her compatriots. Adora continues the walk to the Swift Wind, but she feels their interested eyes on her back the whole way there. She catches sight of the pirate flag waving proudly from the mast of the ship next to hers, and concludes that she just met some of its crew.

She takes a nap as Bow suggested after downing half a bottle of whiskey and pressing a cool, damp rag over her poor eye. It leaves her groggy and ravenous when she wakes up, but she didn’t dream of anything more than the Sword’s constant litany of whispers, so she’ll take it what she can get. She stumbles out onto her deck again to see the sun slowly setting behind the palm trees. Her deck is still empty, with all her workers off getting pissdrunk on cheap alcohol and throwing their remaining coin at prostitutes. They _are_ sailors after all, so you can only expect so much when you give them money and then let them wander about on land.

Bow is probably among them making sure no one drinks themselves to death or unemployment. He’s a dedicated mother hen and has been since the day she met him. She expects that will never change.

She wonders where the Princess has run off to as well. She doesn’t need to wonder long though, as she soon spots a familiar blue kerchief and coat heading down the dock. Glimmer is carrying something in both her hands, bowls by the look of it, and she has to take slow and careful steps up the ramp to avoid dropping them.

“There you are,” she greets Adora. She gingerly holds out one of the bowls, which is steaming and smells like stew. “Bow said this was your favorite, and I just figured you hadn’t eaten anything yet, since the cook is, um, indisposed at the moment.” Adora takes the bowl with a smirk as she ponders what Princess Glimmer with her upper-class manners really means by “indisposed”. Knowing her cook, it could be any number of things, the crazy gob.

“I appreciate it,” she says to Glimmer. “Let’s go sit to eat, unless you’re heading back out.”

Glimmer shakes her head. “No, I think I’ve seen enough of Seaworthy.”

“Not to your taste, eh lass?”

Glimmer rolls her eyes, grinning. “No, but I knew that after what you told me this morning. I dunno though, I suppose for a filthy hovel of flea-bitten vagabonds and criminals, it’s better than I expected.”

“Well, fortunately we won’t be stopping anywhere else like this on our trip. Next stop is Salineas, the gleaming sapphire of Etheria,” she says as she holds the door to her quarters open for the Princess.

“I’m so excited!” The girl squeals in delight. “I’ve wanted to visit Salineas since I was 5.”

“Well, I can safely tell you that the capital will likely live up to your expectations, unlike this old trash heap. I’ve always enjoyed my time there.” Glimmer claps her hands together in enthusiasm.

The stew is fish-based, packed with chunks of bass and mackerel along with shrimp in a thin but flavorful gravy. It _is_ her favorite, and on the first bite she groans in pleasure. “Thank you for bringing this to me,” she says again.

Glimmer shrugs. “Of course, least I could do.” She takes a dainty bite of her own food. They eat in silence for a time until the Princess looks across the desk at Adora thoughtfully. She swallows her spoonful and asks, “So we know why I’m here, but how is it you came to be here?”

Adora shrugs. “I worked on this ship, and when the old captain retired, she gave command to me.”

The Princess rolls her eyes again. “No, I mean, how did you even become a sailor? How long have you been one? Where are you from?”

“Nowhere,” she responds simply.

“Nowhere?”

“I was raised on a ship, one that sailed all year round. Life on the water, moving from port to port, it’s all I’ve ever known. The people I sailed with never mentioned a homeland or other origin. They might’ve plucked me straight from the waves for all I know. Would explain why I can’t bear to leave the sea now.”

“Really?” The Princess is fascinated. “Did you not have a mom or dad?”

Adora shrugs a little stiffly, as Shadow Weaver isn’t a topic she cares to get into. “Not as such, though I guess you could say I was brought up by a woman on the ship.” She swirls her spoon around. “Whenever I asked, she would spin the same tale of finding me as a wee babe, left alone and abandoned to die on a rock, but she would never say where. Told me it didn’t matter and would smack my hands for asking.”

“That’s awful,” Glimmer whispers.

“I mean, it could have been much worse, but yeah, it should have been better I think.”

“What kind of ship was it that you sailed on?”

Now isn’t that a loaded question. Adora looks at the Princess very carefully. She’s spent a month in relatively close quarters with the girl, and she likes to think she’s gotten a beat on her. She’s sure that Glimmer won’t judge or make a fuss, but as for… “Okay, if I tell you this, you _cannot_ tell your mother, ever.”

The other girl leans in. “Ooo, you got it. My lips are sealed.” She even acts out placing a wax seal on her mouth. Adora _really_ does like her.

‘Okay,” she chuckles. “Well… it was a pirate ship.”

“You were a pirate?” She really should not sound so excited about that.

“Not so much one myself, but I lived and worked on their ship. I was just a whelp who cleaned the deck and carried their spoils. When I was older, they taught me how to fight with a sword, but that was it really. I was on that ship until I was 17.”

“Why did you leave?”

Adora covers up her grimace by taking another bite of stew, which tastes like ash on her tongue. Two successive gun shots echo in her mind while the Sword whispers angrily. _Fright Zone. Catra. Hordak. Falling_. “Oh, well, things change. Are you finished?”

“Oh uh, yeah, I guess.” Glimmer looks confused by the sudden change of subject but doesn’t protest when Adora takes her bowl. She starts to leave through the door when she hears Glimmer turn around. “Were you all alone on that ship, except for that woman?” _What the--- Where did that question come from?_

Adora glances back at Glimmer, searching her face for any sign of subterfuge or ill intent. She doesn’t find any. The Princess seems honestly curious and maybe even _concerned_ about her. It’s the concern that loosens her tongue to answer honestly. “No, I wasn’t. There was one other girl my age.”

“And where is she now?”

There’s a knot in her throat, one she struggles to swallow. In her mind, she sees a mischievous smirk, hears the feline snicker she remembers so well. _Don’t cough up a hairball, Adora. That’s my job_.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits. Turning away, she curses how unsteady her voice has become. “I’ll be back once I return these bowls, and then we’ll both go to bed.” Where she’ll be finishing the other half of that bottle.

She leaves the room quickly, too quickly, but she doesn’t care. It’s fully night when she emerges onto the deck. She can see that some of her crew have finally made it back, if only to pass out on the woodwork. Stepping onto the dock, she sees that the gang of dice-rolling pirates has vanished. That should make her feel relieved, but it doesn’t.

It’s oppressively quiet. No sounds disturb the night beyond the gentle rush of waves and the crackling of torch fires. There’re no glasses clinking or drunken laughter, no musicians playing shanty tunes or even footsteps save her own. The Sword whispers another warning as she makes her way to the beach tavern.

A subdued looking bar wench takes the dirty bowls from her and walks off without a word. Strange. Come to think of it, the tavern is unusually empty for this time of night. Only a few people, most of them hers, are sitting on the stools, and even they seem to be affected by the tense atmosphere. Bow is there too, and he waves her over when she notices him.

“What’s going on?” She asks him as quietly as she can. The Sword’s litany has picked up, but now it’s repeating the same word over and over again. _Justice Juusticce Jusssticcce_…

“I have no idea,” Bow answers, clearly ill at ease. “About ten minutes ago, everyone just started clearing out of here. No one’s on the streets either. It’s like a ghost town out here. And…” he glances about nervously. “I saw a whole bunch of people leaving that ship docked next to us. You know, the one with the _black_ flag?”

“Shit,” Adora hisses, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Yeah, and they looked armed to the teeth. They disappeared going that direction.” He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing down the beach to the same place where Adora saw those familiar pointed ears.

“Damn…” She looks around. Her present crew members are mostly awake, if sloshed, but not all of them are in this particular bar. If someone’s about to set this rathole on fire or _worse_, they need to book it out of the harbor as quickly as possible, and she won’t leave any of her people behind. “Okay, okay. Bow, you get these lads up and moving back to the ship. Get us ready to leave and be prepared to push us off at a moment’s notice. I’ll go find the rest and bring them back, and then we go.”

“Yes, Captain.” Bow stands, so careful to not even scrape his stool across the sandy wooden floor. He puts a hand on her shoulder as she turns to leave. “Come back soon. And do it in one piece.”

Her smile is more confident than she is. “You know me, Bow. It’ll take a lot more than a few pirates to put me down.” Then she jogs away, trying to stay quick and light on her feet, with one hand grasping the Sword’s hilt.

Bow was right about Seaworthy becoming a ghost town. She creeps down the sandy streets alone, seeing no signs of life beyond the occasional flutter of a curtain. She makes an educated guess that the rest of her crew are holed up in the one brothel in town, a small, scummy, sticky den of iniquity that was nevertheless the richest business in the area after the slave auctions. It is located on the further end of the settlement, close where the ruddy shacks end and the wild frontier begins.

She takes side paths and ducks behind buildings to get there, intent on staying out of sight of any potential threats. But as she tiptoes, swerves, and maneuvers, she sees the shadows move. She is not alone. At one point, she ducks behind a couple of barrels, and from the darkness ahead of her two figures run with their faces obscured by hoods and bandanas. They are armed, one with a short sword and the other with a nasty looking dagger, and both have pistols holstered on their belts. Adora shivers as they pass her by without notice. Gods, she _hates_ guns.

The two brigands turn and rush down the road, and she absently notes that they’re heading in the direction of the slave market. She doesn’t stop to consider them further however, as she’s got sailors to extract. She steps out from behind the barrels and continues on her way.

The guard standing outside the whorehouse nearly pulls his falchion on her when she walks up to him. “State ya business,” he growls in a deep, gravelly voice that doesn’t mask his fear.

Adora holds up her hands in a calming gesture. “I’m just here to pick up my workers. I’m not here for no trouble.”

For a moment, it doesn’t look like he believes her, but then he reluctantly steps back from the door. “Make it quick, then get out,” he says.

“Exactly my intention,” she says as she pulls the door open and goes in.

Finding her remaining sailors is easy. Even here the tension is palpable, and the place is mostly empty of customers. She has to drag out a few of the drunken lummoxes by their ears, but they follow eventually. She tosses a bag of gold at the madam as they leave, telling her to keep the change.

All that matters now is getting back to the Swift Wind. She leads her men along the edge of town, a narrow but straight path where she isn’t likely to lose anyone on the way. 

They’re parallel to the auction stage when suddenly there’s a great and thunderous **_BOOM!_** She tosses her arms up in front of her face before she’s blinded by the light of the explosion happening not 100 yards away from them. The force of it sends her stumbling back and knocks her unsteady compatriots to the sand. When she finally puts her arms down, she gawks with wide eyes at the roaring fire that has erupted, reaching up toward the starry sky and coming from the stage area.

“Go, get to the ship. Now!” She shouts at her crew.

“But, Cap, what about you?” One of them thinks to ask while the rest hasten to follow orders. 

She puts a hand on his shoulder, smiles briefly, and then shoves him in the direction of the beach. “I’ll be there soon. Off with you now!” He swallows, looking between her and the sparkling waters in the distance. Then he nods shortly and runs after the others.

She should follow him. She knows she should. But that fire is massive, it could easily spread to the other buildings. She might not like Seaworthy much, but she has no desire to see it and its residents reduced to ash. The least she can do is try to stop that from happening. The Sword vibrates against her leg, and she feels its mysterious power flood her veins, emboldening and encouraging her. Without further hesitation she sprints toward the inferno.

The closer she gets, the more she sees and hears. It’s chaos, violent, bloody chaos by the auction stage. A full goddamn battle is taking place in the square, with an undulating mass of combatants savaging each other with swords, axes, and guns. From what she can see, some even have torches that they’re waving around and jabbing into the unprotected sides of their foes. The fighting is so intense it’s almost a free-for-all, but she can discern that there are at least two different groups composing the fray: the pirates that she and Bow saw, and the local slavers and their entourage of guards.

From amidst in the tussle, someone sends a hand bomb soaring over the battlefield, aiming at the building behind the stage where the slavers typically caged their cargo and finalized their deals. Adora gasps in horror as the wooden barn explodes with concussive force. There’s a triumphant roar from half of the battling throng, the brigand half specifically. Billowing clouds of smoke fill the air and the flames turn the night sky an evil, hazy orange.

She doesn’t have much time, but if she can skirt around the edges of the skirmish, she might reach the barn and hopefully rescue those trapped inside. She starts to run, dodging stray bullets and throwing knives as she makes her way past. But her progress is stopped abruptly when a bruising, merciless hand clamps down on her bicep. She is yanked backward and put face-to-face with an ugly, pock-marked man with one good eye and at least seven missing teeth. She vaguely recognizes him as one of the auction guards, and raises a mighty fist to send the rest of his teeth right down his throat. She is beaten to the (metaphorical and literal) punch, however, when a hulking crimson claw comes from the left and clamps down on the man’s neck. He releases Adora’s arm to struggle desperately against this one, but it’s no use as he is pitilessly choked and slammed into the sand. He doesn’t get up again, but the scorpion woman from this afternoon does.

“Oh, hey! Nice to see you again! Though, uh, you might wanna get out of here.” The woman smiles cheerfully at Adora, as if the battle raging behind her is barely an afterthought.

“But--- you---,” she digs her nails hard into her scalp, staring in disbelief at this pirate. “You people are going to burn the damn town down!” She finally shouts. She points angrily toward the auction building. “And that! There might still be people in there!”

“Oh, there?” The woman looks at the barn, unconcerned. “Eh, don’t worry about that. We’ve already evacuated that place. There’s no one there now. And don’t be worryin’ about the fire, we’ve got it under control!”

Their conversation, if you can call it that, is interrupted when another of the guards charges the scorpion woman with a scimitar lofted above his head. Adora gets her chance for payback now as she lunges forward and slams the pommel of the Sword into his gut. It’s a powerful blow, laying the man out on the ground where the other woman proceeds to stomp on his head.

“Thanks for that!” She says, beaming. She glances down at their fallen enemy and then up at the vicious fight before them. “Really though, luv, you should leave. We’ve got this handled. Head back to that handsome ship of yours now, okay?” She doesn’t say another word, instead hopping back into the fracas and disappearing.

Adora is left stunned, staring at the place in the crowd where she vanished. It’s only when she very narrowly avoids taking a throwing knife to the shoulder that she shakes off her incredulity and decides the woman is right. She spares a final, worried look at the collapsing barn before she turns tail and runs as fast as her feet will take her. She doesn’t stop sprinting until her feet are clapping against the damp wood of the dock and she can see her crew looking over the sides of the Swift Wind, while Bow stands at the helm. Her ship is unmoored and the ramp has already been drawn up, but she pays no heed, instead barreling to the end of the walk and taking a flying leap, intent on catching hold of the tough oak railing. Her crew, the ever-loyal lot, are there to grab her arms and hoist her up onto the deck as she does so.

Doubled over and out of breath, she gives the signal to Bow, who wastes no time steering the ship away from the dock. Two of her swabbies help her to sit atop a sturdy crate, smacking her on the back reassuringly. She looks up to see Glimmer rushing over to rest a steadying hand on her shoulder. Her glittering eyes are filled with both fear and relief. Adora covers the Princess’s hand tightly with her own, as she gazes out over the ship’s bow at the dancing lights and smoke still pouring out from Seaworthy.

She watches them flicker and spark even as the Swift Wind turns and glides out of the harbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Sword doesn't look like it does on the show. It's long and thin, with no guard, but the blade is still bright blue. It looks like this: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/1a/db/66/1adb66783e2dc0020e8b3b44ef391b8a.jpg


	3. Black Sails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We were born to fight, we were born to win! The Devil's brigade came straight from Hell! We were born to fight, we were born to win the fray! We got the black sails!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legendgrass made a lovely piece of art for this story, and this is the link for it: https://www.deviantart.com/legendgrass/art/Blood-and-Saltwater-809315792
> 
> Check it out, it's really good, and it ties in well with the events of this chapter.

Three days after leaving Seaworthy, Adora still can’t get the skirmish out of her mind. She doesn’t think she can be judged for her preoccupation, having witnessed a fight like that. It reminds her too much of the old battles that haunt her sleep, battles at sea aboard a different ship, but all the worse for it.

She turns the wheel and squints against the late morning sun. There’s nary a cloud in the sky and the wind is fair. Since their stop at Seaworthy was cut short, they’re making good time toward Salineas and are set to arrive in 10 days, less if the winds pick up in their favor.

Her crew have already recovered from the shock and are as boisterous and loud as ever. Bow is at her side once again, leaning against the edge of the quarterdeck. Glimmer is on the main deck with one of Adora’s men, and he appears to be teaching her how to adjust the sails while she listens intently. No one seems especially concerned about much of anything, but that just gives Adora a worse feeling of unease. She keeps coming back to those pirates and their ship, to that brazenly flippant woman with the scorpion’s claws. She remembers the way those pirates watched her on the dock and can’t shake the idea that their attention was more than simple curiosity. True, there’s been no sign of them in the past three days, but Adora concludes that she won’t really feel better about it until they get to Salineas.

She’s thinking about Catra too, because of course she is. Her brain will take even the flimsiest excuse to do that. She remembers one of the few times the Fright Zone ever docked in Salineas, when the two of them had been released to galivant through the streets. They weren’t allowed to have spending money like the older pirates, but it _was_ a rare day when they were left without supervision, as Shadow Weaver was elsewhere doing gods know what and Captain Hordak was conducting his secretive business in the dockyards.

_Catra had been ecstatic and unwilling to waste any time, dragging Adora by the hand as they ran down the cobble streets._

_Eventually they found themselves crouched in a cramped side street that was situated by the lively, bustling marketplace. Their eyes fixed upon one particularly spacious stand that was selling crates and bushels of the exotic fruits native to these particular islands. They licked their lips hungrily as they identified mangos, melons, kiwis, papayas, and more. Food on the Fright Zone was bland at best, especially for them, the two youngest people there. They weren’t old enough to help board ships, and so were rarely allowed to share in the spoils. Catra had always resented that, even though it didn’t really bother Adora. Shadow Weaver always set aside nice foods for her anyway, which she was able to pocket to share with Catra later._

_“Okay, here’s what we do,” Catra said. “You’ll be the distraction, and I’ll grab everything I can carry from that box over there.” She pointed to one crate set down on the far side of the stall, one that was slightly blocked from view and therefore easiest to take from. She then pointed at the vendor, a tall man with bull’s horns and hooves for feet. “Once I’m in my spot, go over there and get his attention. I’ll give you a thumbs up when I’m finished, and then I’ll meet you back by that closed down bait shop we passed a few streets ago. You got it?”_

_Adora nodded excitedly. “Okay, I’m goin’ in,” Catra whispered, getting up._

_Adora caught her hand as she started to go. “Be careful!”_

_Catra flashed her pristine, pointy teeth. “Always am, Adora!”_

_Adora stayed crouched in the alleyway while Catra ran out of sight, only to reappear a minute later kneeling next to their targeted crate. She grinned mischievously at Adora and jerked her head in the direction of the vendor._

_Adora gulped and steeled her nerves. When she was ready, she stood and jogged up to the man. “Uh, hey mister! Are those real horns?”_

_“Hrrm? Whadja say to me, girl?” The vendor scratched a hairy ear as he turned from his wares to look at her._

_Adora gave him her best innocent smile. “Those horns! They’re reaaally cool. I was wondrin’ if they was real!” In her periphery, Adora saw Catra grabbing as much fruit as she could hold in her shirt._

_“Whuh… What kind of dumb question is tha? Course they real!” He started to turn back but Catra hadn’t given her the signal yet._

_Adora scrambled to stall. “Uh! W-What about the hooves? How come you got hooves for feet but got ten fingers too?” She hated playing the idiot. The only thing that made the humiliation worth it was the fresh fruit she would soon stuff her face with._

_“What in the…? Now look ‘ere, ya mangy brat. Some of us got work to do ‘ere, and I’ve got no damn time for---” From behind the huge man, Adora could see Catra grab one last mango and stuff it in her shirt, giving Adora a thumbs up before taking off in the other direction. Thank the Drowned God._

_“Oh, okay! Bye, mister!” She said loudly before she too turned tail and ran, skipping back down the alleyway that they’d been hiding in. As she left, she heard a bovine roar from behind her._

_“Who stole from my bloody stall?!”_

_She couldn’t stop her giggles until she was outside the rundown bait shop. She looked around for Catra, eager to get her share of their spoils. That was when she heard the familiar sound of flesh hitting flesh and Catra crying out._

_She ran in the direction of the sound, to the other side of the small building. The first thing she saw was Shadow Weaver standing with her hands balled into fists, tendrils of darkness whipping furiously around her body. Then she saw Catra curled up on the ground, clutching her face and crying. All the fruit they had taken had spilled onto the street, their juices leaving sticky stains behind._

_“Catra! Shadow Weaver!” Adora gasped, running up to them._

_“Adora,” Shadow Weaver drawled in her oily voice, turning to her. “I shouldn’t be surprised to find you here too. I caught this wretched creature making a nuisance of herself and threatening the captain’s interests here by stealing out in the open. I don’t suppose you would know anything about that?”_

_Adora gulped, looking down at her feet and worrying the bottom of her shirt with her fingers. “I-It wasn’t her fault, Shadow Weaver. It, it was my idea! Mine! I wanted the fruit, and I made her help me. She didn’t do anything wrong!” She could see Catra staring at her from the ground, blinking back her tears. Adora felt her own eyes burn and moisten. “We- we didn’t mean to cause trouble for Captain Hordak, honest!”_

_“Oh, Adora…” Shadow Weaver cupped her cheek with a cool, long-fingered hand. “I know when you lie to me, dear child. You must take better control of your pet, darling, or else the captain will have cause to get rid of her. Do not let something like this happen again.” She ran one pointed finger down Adora’s nose affectionately before straightening up. “That being said, this incident cannot pass without proper punishment.” Quick as a mako shark, Shadow Weaver grabbed Catra by the arm and dragged her to her feet. Adora opened her mouth to protest, but Shadow Weaver cut her off with a wave of the hand. “Ah ah, my sweet, keep quiet now, or you’ll only make it worse for her. Do you understand?” Adora still remembers how terrified she was of the witch in that moment. She had shut her mouth and followed Shadow Weaver back to the Fright Zone in silence._

_Catra had struggled and squirmed valiantly once they were up on the deck, turning pleading eyes to Adora even as two older members of the crew dragged her to the mainmast on Shadow Weaver’s orders. They tied her to it with ropes so tight that the brush burns didn’t heal for days. They ripped open her shirt, stained with sugary juice, and bared her back to the unforgiving malice of the crew. A huge reptile man, Tung Lashor, approached with a whip in his hand, looking at Shadow Weaver for instruction._

_Shadow Weaver rested her hands on Adora’s tiny shoulders, firmly holding her in place. “Ten stripes,” she decreed. “Five for causing trouble for Hordak, and five for getting Adora to lie about it.” Adora shuddered and whimpered as tears rolled freely down her cheeks. She felt it when Shadow Weaver bent down to whisper in her ear, all while Catra tried to break free from the ropes and Tung Lashor unrolled the whip. “You see, Adora. Our actions always have consequences.” The first blow landed on vulnerable flesh, and Catra’s scream rent the air._

“**_Captain!_**” Adora’s head jerks upward and she focuses on her lookout in the crow’s nest. “We’ve got a ship incomin’, Captain! _With black sails!_”

“What?” She follows to where he is frantically pointing, taking the telescope Bow hands her automatically and peering into it. When she does, sure enough, she spots a ship speeding in their direction, decorated boldly with sails the color of tar. “_Fuck_ me,” she spits, her mind already racing. She hands the telescope back to Bow, who takes it grimly. “Alright, calm down.” She says to herself as much as him. “We don’t know that they’re coming to attack us,” she says to him. He just stares back disbelievingly. She can’t blame him. She doesn’t really believe it herself. There’s no way in the Drowned God’s sodden breeches that this ship is flashing black sails peacefully.

She shouts down to her crew, where they are already awaiting her command. “Ready the guns!” Instantly, the atmosphere shifts from one of energetic work to tense preparation. The man who was teaching Glimmer leaves her by the shrouds to help roll up a cannon on the starboard side. The Princess now looks stranded on the deck, trying to find something to do. Adora turns back to Bow. “Take her to my cabin and stay with her there. If they do attack us, they _cannot_ get their hands on her.”

It’s clear that Bow doesn’t want to leave Adora’s side, but he wants Glimmer in danger even less, so he readjusts his bow to his back and hops down from the edge, jogging over to the girl. From where she stands, Adora can see that Glimmer isn’t pleased by what Bow tells her, and she glances unhappily up at Adora, who only stares back, unyielding. She frowns deeply, but ultimately goes with Bow, and they both disappear inside the captain’s quarters.

Now Adora stands alone at the helm, taking deep breaths. She reminds herself that she needs to stay composed, for the sake of her crew. As captain, she forms the foundation of their confidence and morale, and she can’t afford to waver if all of their lives are about to be put on the line. She looks behind her once more, and curses when she sees that their pursuer has picked up speed. In the distance she can see long oars cut and drag through the waves, propelling them ever closer to the Swift Wind’s stern. _Opportunistic shit-licking whoresons_… The Swift Wind, for all her grace and speed compared to others of her kind, is still a big, lumbering cargo hauler that could never outrun a ship smaller and leaner than she. And these flea-bitten pirate rats know it as surely as Adora does.

Still, she calls for the sails to be fully extended. If she can give them even a bit of trouble catching up, they might decide it isn’t worth the effort and leave them be. The extra bit of sail gives them a small burst of speed, and she spins the wheel hard to the left as their foe approaches from 20 degrees to the right. The Sword is thrumming against her hip, as if It knows It will be needed soon.

The waiting is the worst part. The two ships aren’t close enough yet to risk attacking, so all they can do is run and chase and watch each other. The pirates’ rig inches ever forward, the bowsprit jutting out like a great spear above their figurehead, which strikes Adora as somewhat familiar, but from this distance she can’t make out exactly what it is. The black sails are flashy and bold, turning the ship into a dark specter prowling the waters, like the sea demons Shadow Weaver used to tell her stories about. Whoever the captain is must have a flair for the dramatic.

A glance at her deck reveals that her swabbies have positioned most of the guns and are ready to fight when it comes to that. Sighing, Adora knows they’ve done all they can. Either they fight, or they all walk away from this in peace, and there’s no way to know what will happen until it’s done. A harsh gust cuts across the hull, forcing her to fix her hair and pull up the hood on her burgundy coat.

It takes upwards of twenty minutes, but eventually black sails are blotting out the sky in the west behind them. Adora looks once more at their pursuers to assess the odds in the battle that’s about to break out. When she does, her breath stutters in her chest and her gray-blue eyes go wide.

_No!_ She recognizes the figurehead now, all too well. The baleful eyes of a snarling, shrieking witch pierce her through. She had always hated its twisted face, its shining shark’s teeth, and the riling snakes that made up its hair. It used to give her nightmares as a child, but even now it freezes her blood. Because this is no ordinary pack of thugs chasing after them, and she must now deal with the oppressive realization that she and her crew are not going to win this battle.

The Fright Zone glides up on their right side, and there is terrible silence for 10 eternal seconds. Adora can see the captain at the helm, _Hordak_, the bastard. His face and figure are hidden beneath a black coat and tricorn hat. She watches in horror as he raises a hand high in the air… And brings it down hard.

The air fills with smoke and thunder. Adora counts fifteen cannonballs as they fly across the choppy waves and hit the Swift Wind directly, concussively piercing her starboard side and sending blood, lead shrapnel, and wood splinters flying.

“**_Fire!_**” She yells down at her crew, and they are already lighting the fuses. Their return wave is short by two guns but still unforgiving and harshly retributive. Her size might slow her down, but the Swift Wind makes up for it with plenty of _big fucking cannons_. Through the heavy fog of smoke and sulfur, she can still see the shots as they connect, rocking the smaller vessel on impact and sending several of the pirates soaring through the air. “Reload!”

She turns the ship’s wheel hard to the left once more with the intent of getting more distance between them. The Swift Wind lists in that direction, but it’s no use as the Fright Zone’s oarsmen pick up the slack and keep them well within range for a second attack.

“They’re firin’ chain shot, Cap!” One of her men bellows just as said shots rip gaping holes in their starboard once more. One of them takes a dangerous chunk out of their foremast and another carves through one of their firing teams.

She watches her people fall dead to the deck, only for their bodies to be dragged away and their positions replaced. She could scream with rage, but she doesn’t because there’s no time. “Fire on the mangy dogs!” She calls as her eyes turn back to Hordak, who has left the helm to his first mate and is now standing with arms crossed at the railing, bold as brass. She’s tempted to order a shot on him directly.

The cannons roar like war drums as they counterattack, and though they do an admirable amount of damage to the Fright Zone’s aft, the other ship continues to creep closer to them. Adora curses as she glimpses hooks and ropes being thrown from the Fright Zone to catch onto the Swift Wind’s rail. “They’re boardin’ us!”

Sure enough, right as she shouts down to her crew to abandon the cannons and get ready to fight man-to-man, she hears Hordak yell, “Run ‘em through, lads!” _Wait, that’s not Hordak’s voice_…

Facing the reality of their imminent boarding, Adora lets her hands drop from the helm to the Sword. It sings an otherworldly note as she pulls It forth from Its scabbard. Its ethereal blade glows blue, and It makes her entire body tingle as It pours Its power into her. She reads the runes engraved into the metal, letting them embolden her and steel her courage. Adora has been a natural with a blade since her training aboard the very ship trying to kill her now, but with the Sword in her grip she is more than a master. She never could decide if the Sword became an extension of her or if she became an extension of It, but whichever it is means that she has never lost in a blade-to-blade fight.

She vaults the quarterdeck’s banister and lands gracefully on the main deck. She meets the eyes of one of her men, who gulps loudly at the sight of her. “It’s time to end this,” she tells him severely.

He nods jerkily. “Aye aye, Captain!”

She marches forward, heading straight for the hooks pulling the two vessels closer together. She sees one of the pirates take hold of a rope and swing over to her side. The Sword quickens her heartbeat and urges her onward. She sprints at her own mainmast, leaps past the shrouds, and runs up the thick wooden pole, grabbing an iron notch a yard or so up to help propel her body high into the air. As that oh so brave and enterprising brigand crosses the water between the ships, she meets him with a roundhouse kick that spins her in the air to better slam her shin into his grinning face.

They fall together, but he hits the water with a painful smack while she angles her body so as to land on her feet atop one of the cannons. She perches there, the Sword’s blade resting on one shoulder, glaring at the pirates gawking at her from the other end of the ropes. One of them eventually thinks to aim a pistol at her, and she thanks the Drowned God that the Sword’s influence and pure adrenaline make her petrifying fear of guns nearly non-existent. She does a backflip off the cannon as the lead ball soars underneath her head and off into the distance. She lands deftly on the deck once more, just as the Captain Who Isn’t Hordak turns to their men and shouts, “Come with me and take this ship!” The pirates cheer and bellow with swords and guns raised, and they all charge for the Fright Zone’s edge, some grabbing ropes to swing on and others putting down planks to climb across. Yet more attempt to simply leap over the gap between the vessels, but Adora is ready for them.

The first pirate that crosses the threshold is kicked so hard in the stomach that he flies backward, cracking his spine against the aft of the Fright Zone and falling limp into the waves. Some of them try to put down another ramp and cross over that way, but the Sword slices through the wood like paper, sending it and its occupants down as well.

It’s not enough though. There’s too many of them, and they’re boarding in droves. The Swift Wind is in chaos, and a tumultuous brawl is under way with swords clashing against each other and flintlocks firing left and right. Her crew are doing their best, but they are vastly outnumbered. Adora wastes no time diving right into the thick of the action, cutting a merciless slash into one brigand’s side before knocking the gun out of another’s hand, a woman with short hair and dark skin like Bow’s. She grabs the pistol as it falls and whips the woman across the face with it. The pirate cries out and falls away, and Adora moves on to the next.

She sees one of her men wrestling with a particularly enormous pirate. They are battling for possession of a musket locked between them, and the huge brigand is slowly winning. She gets a running start and does a long and elegant front flip, bringing the Sword down in a painting-perfect arc to slice through his forearms. The Sword doesn’t sever them as she might like, but the injury still makes the pirate lose his grip on the gun, allowing Adora’s man to get it back and turn the tide.

By now, some of the enemy forces have begun to realize who their biggest threat is, and so they advance on her, attempting to cage her in and overwhelm her. She raises the Sword in front of her and spits on the deck, daring them to attack, and is somewhat shocked to see that they actually hesitate. She wonders if her unflinching glare is really so intimidating, but doesn’t give them the chance to make up for their reluctance. The Sword creates a shining blue arc in the air as it descends on the pirate closest to her. The tip rips through the man’s chest, and she takes advantage of the gap he creates, blocking the axe that aims for her neck and severing the blade from the handle. She hops onto the banister leading up to the bowsprit and runs toward it. Now free of harassing enemies, she takes a split second to scan the battlefield.

Her people are still outnumbered, and even with her help they are starting to lose. She struggles desperately for any kind of plan that will see them through this, and her eyes catch on the hat of the Fright Zone’s captain, who, Adora only realizes now, appears to be a _woman_. _The captain is their crew’s foundation._ _Kill the captain to break their morale, and even the hairiest fights can be won in a pinch_.

Adora watches with eyes narrowed as the other captain saunters onto the Swift Wind’s deck like it already belongs to her. Feeling white hot anger surge beneath her breast bone, she runs along the rail, hopping from gun to gun until she is close enough to strike. Her hood falls as she jumps down behind her target and pulls her Sword back to cut right through the bitch’s throat. But as her left arm extends to make the killing blow, she sees the other captain’s right arm rise. She sees the briefest flash of a toothy smirk before the cold muzzle of a pistol touches her forehead, just as her blade connects with the woman’s jugular.

They are both frozen in place, arms extended and bodies left vulnerable, and the battle around them fades to barely noticeable background noise.

Adora can’t believe what she’s seeing. Surely, it can’t be true. She must have been hit on the head and simply failed to notice. She can’t be seeing a pair of blue and yellow eyes staring back at her. She can’t be seeing a set of pearly white teeth in a mouth that gawps like a fish. She _can’t_ be seeing this face, not _this_ face that has lingered in her thoughts and dreams every day for the past five years.

“C-Catra?”

_Catra_ doesn’t seem to register her own name. She just keeps gawking at Adora like she’s looking at a ghost, or maybe a miracle. Her jaw moves up and down erratically. Her lips struggle to form syllables. She seems entirely incapable of speech until…

“Adora?”

In unison, as perfectly as if they’d practiced it, they both lower their weapons. Catra’s gun hand drops limply to her side, and Adora’s sword arm follows suit. The both of them have been rendered effectively useless, since all they can do now is _stare_.

It’s Catra that makes the first move, taking a single, unsteady step forward. Her empty hand rises, falls, and rises again. “But… _you’re dead_.”

“No.” Gods, is that all she can come up with? _No?_ “I’m not.” _Fucking blithering idiot_…

“But _how_?” Catra demands, taking another step forward until they are nearly nose to nose. Her trembling fingers touch Adora’s cheek, and she sucks in a harsh breath when they do. “_How_ can you be here? I saw you d---”

The thunder of another cannon blast cuts off Catra’s words, and Adora’s head turns just in time to see the projectile hit the middle of the Swift Wind, smashing into the cargo hold, and her mind flashes instantly to the three dozen barrels of gunpowder sitting prettily in that very spot. _Shit!_

Sure enough, she has only a second to make her decision, and it’s a simple one, really. She turns back to Catra, wraps both arms around her, and tackles her to the deck not a fraction of a moment too soon, as Hell opens its gates behind them.

The force of the blast is incalculable, as is the volume of its roar. Still, she only shifts to cover Catra’s body further even as her entire back explodes with searing agony. She might scream. She isn’t really sure. Very little is certain. She thinks she feels the deck as it tilts. She’s also sure she notices when Catra slips out from under her. Or maybe Adora just falls off. Regardless, she presses numb palms to the wood and tries to stand up. She fails. She tries a second time, and fails. She can’t move her legs and her arms are useless, buckling under her weight and leaving her in a heap.

She feels hands grabbing her arms roughly, understands that her body is being dragged against someone else’s, but beyond that she doesn’t really know what’s going on. Someone is speaking in her ear and running their hands through her hair, but her vision is blurry now and her eyelids are heavy as anchors.

The last thing she feels is someone desperately shaking her shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are youtube links to all the shanties so far. You can also find them on Spotify.
> 
> Randy Dandy Oh: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QapvJeWiHwo  
Running Down to Cuba: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxX4YjOx1TA  
Sail Away: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-eLmhpaxmU  
Black Sails: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UmzXiNkJdFE  
Lyrics for Black Sails: https://genius.com/Paddy-and-the-rats-black-sails-lyrics


	4. My Son John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My son John was tall and slim, and he'd a leg for ev'ry limb, But now he's got no legs at all, for he ran a race with a cannon ball!"
> 
> ...I promise Adora still has her legs.

She is adrift in darkness, lost in it for the second time in her life. She is only partially aware of her body, and that cognizance has a regrettable habit of vanishing like smoke whenever she tries to hold onto it. She thinks she can hear things occasionally, sounds that might be footsteps or even voices, but she can’t understand the words, if indeed there are words being spoken. It’s the mumbling of watery ghosts, perhaps, the whispers of every poor fool who’d drowned here before her.

She thinks she should feel cold if she’s been tossed into the sea to die again. Instead, during the scattered seconds when she can feel her limbs, she is uncomfortably hot. Her back and legs itch and burn, and she can’t move enough to relieve them. Maybe the fish are feasting on her corpse, sharks chewing on her calves and dozens of little crabs picking the flesh from her shoulders. She will admit to feeling cheated by this death. She wishes she could at least see or maybe float aimlessly with the flotsam and jetsam of the current. That, at least, might be interesting. But it seems that’s too much to ask, because she simply rests, sightless and motionless, on a bed of sand. It’s curious, that. She thinks she should feel the irritating grains in her nose and eyes, but she never does. It’s very soft for the ocean floor. There are none of the small stones or uneven ridges she expected. Her face rests against what seems, in her estimation, to be a neat patch of seaweed. Seaweed that smells strangely of alcohol; surely just a nonsense hallucination courtesy of her suffocating brain.

It isn’t until the eerie grumbles start to form some comprehensible phrases that she begins to question her unpleasant fate. It’s just fragments at first, such as “infection receding”, “fever is breaking”, “aggressive sterilization still required”, and “showing signs of regaining consciousness”. Strange things indeed to hear from the spirits of dead men. This new level of sapience is also accompanied by a more enduring sense of proprioception. She can tell where each of her arms and legs are, even down to her fingers and toes. They feel like lead and she can’t move them beyond a twitch here and there, but they help her to ultimately reach the conclusion that she is still alive. She can’t do anything with that information, but it’s nice to have.

She can vaguely sense the passage of time. Night and day don’t have any meaning, but seconds and minutes do. People have meaning, and she knows that there _are_ people around her now. They move and talk and do things in the nebulous space beyond her closed eyelids. She can feel them when they touch her, mostly to poke around her numb but still slightly itchy back. At one point, she thinks she can feel fingers carding gently through her hair, but that might just be her imagination.

Waking up is… difficult. It probably takes her a long time, but when she is finally able to open her eyes, it feels like a victory.

She’s in some manner of room. It has stone walls, a single window, and a stone floor covered by a rug of some size. She is lying on her stomach in a bed, her face resting against an unusually comfortable pillow. There is a wooden nightstand by her head, which is covered in strange metal implements that gleam in the light.

She realizes that she isn’t wearing any clothes. She can feel the scratch of the sheets against her naked skin, and it’s unsettling. She feels something else wrapped around much of her torso, something mildly constricting. She tries to roll over and see what it is, but fails. She can’t feel her legs…

“Oh hey! Are you finally up?” That voice…

Before her bleary eyes, the scorpion woman from Seaworthy appears, beaming. “Hey, long time no see! How ya feelin?”

Adora’s brow furrows. “Um…”

“Oh! Wait, stupid question, sorry,” says the woman. “Ummm, how about an introduction instead, since we didn’t really get one before? I’m Scorpia!”

“…Adora.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been hearing all about you over the past few days.” She keeps smiling brightly, oblivious or unbothered by the growing concern in Adora’s face.

“Days?”

“Yeah, it’s been about a… week,” Scorpia says after thinking for a moment. She crosses her enormous red claws (which make Adora wince, just a little) over her chest. “That was a rough time there for a while. We weren’t all that sure you’d make it, lass.”

“What happened?”

Scorpia pauses and looks at Adora more seriously. “Do ya remember anything?”

She thinks about it, casts her mind back as far as it will go through the murk. She remembers a battle, or bits of one. She had been fighting on the deck of the Swift Wind when…

“Catra! Where’s Catra?”

“Oh, so you do remember. Good!” Scorpia says. “She’s fine, just out getting some work done right now. I’ll go tell her you’re awake. First though…” She reaches for a cup Adora hadn’t noticed before. “I bet you’re pretty thirsty, eh? Think you can roll over on your own?” When Adora shakes her head, Scorpia hums. “That’s alright, lassie. I’ll help ya.” Adora watches those massive claws carefully as they gently pinch her waist. “Easy does it,” Sorpia says as she slowly tilts her onto her side. It makes the uppermost part of her shoulders sting, even though most of her back is still deadened. In this new position, Adora can see that much of her upper body has been entirely wrapped in bandages. “There we go. Now, here.” She holds the cup up and helps Adora drink it without spilling any. It’s embarrassing, frankly, but Scorpia takes it in good humor. “Don’cha worry. We’ve been takin good care of you o’er the past week. You’ll be up and moving in no time.” Once the cup is empty, she sets it back on the nightstand. “Try to relax. I’ll let everyone know you’re finally awake.”

Adora wants her to stay, at least for a little while longer. A thousand questions swim through her hazy thoughts, but she’s so exhausted that she can’t voice them. Scorpia disappears from her line of sight, and she hears the opening and shutting of a door.

She is alone once more, and she doesn’t appreciate it. She makes another attempt at moving on her own, bringing her hand up to clumsily rub at her eyes while she takes stock of the situation. There are three things she definitely knows. 1) She is still alive. 2) She’s not drowning in the ocean or even aboard a ship, if the stone walls are anything to go by. And 3) somewhere in this place is Catra.

She lets out a shuddering sigh. “_Catra,_” she whispers to the empty room. She can’t seem to wrap her mind around that. It’s been five years since that fateful night on the Fright Zone, and she hasn’t seen nor heard from Catra since then. _She thought I was dead_. Adora supposes she can hardly blame her, since she definitely would have been dead if not for the Sword.

She had spent the better part of those five years worried sick about Catra’s whereabouts and wellbeing. But it seems that her concern was unjustified, given that Catra had clearly come out the better from that situation. _She’s their captain now. It was always her dream_. Once, that thought would have made Adora happy, but now it fills her with dread. _She’s a pirate… She attacked my ship. …Where is my ship?_

Adora doesn’t know what to feel, other than anxiety. Catra couldn’t have known the Swift Wind was Adora’s rig, but she had attacked it without mercy anyway. Most of Adora’s memory is still lost to her, but she does remember seeing her people torn apart by cannon fire. Catra had ordered that. _She’s a pirate_.

There’s noise coming from somewhere outside this room; people speaking loudly and the turning of squeaky wooden wheels. With significant effort, she is able to curl in on herself and turn her head toward the door. It’s wooden and thin looking, and she can glimpse the shadows of shuffling feet from the gap underneath it. The stone floor by the door is sandy. So, wherever they are, it’s definitely on land. She thinks hard. Their course from Seaworthy hadn’t planned to pass any islands until they were nearly in Salinean waters. Scorpia had said Adora was down for a week, but she didn’t say how much of that week was spent on water vs. land. She has no idea where this place could possibly be, and that makes her all the more uneasy.

Nearly fifteen minutes pass before the door opens again. Adora has to shut her eyes against the light that pours in, shielding her face.

“Oh come on now, I know I ain’t that hideous.” The sardonic tone and the lilting quality of the words are all too familiar to Adora, and she looks back, blinding sunlight be damned. Catra is there, standing in the doorway. There’s a small almost imperceptible upturn to her lips, and her blue-and-yellow eyes are locked on Adora’s.

She walks to the side of the bed and rests one hand on the mattress. “Hey, Adora,” she purrs softly. “It’s been a while.”

“Catra,” Adora breathes. She reaches out, or tries to. She doesn’t get very far before her hand falls right back to the bed. She hates this weakness, and Catra must recognize that, because she picks up Adora’s hand and presses it her own face.

“There,” she says. “I’m completely real. Happy?”

Adora lets her fingers stroke the ridge of feline cheekbones. “I can’t believe it’s really you,” she says, because she can’t, even now.

Catra smirks. “You can’t believe? Imagine how I feel, looking at my best friend who died five years ago.”

Her face heats. “I almost died,” she says softly, and a little apologetically.

Catra’s expression sobers. “Almost,” she repeats. “You seem to have quite the knack for only _almost_ dying.” Her eyes flick to Adora’s back. “You tackled me to the deck.”

Did she? Mm, maybe. “I was trying to shield you,” she says, even though she isn’t sure what really happened. It just sounds like something she would do.

“Yeah,” Catra says, her gaze lingering. “Saved my life. Just to get yourself wrecked.” She frowns. “Does it hurt at all?”

“Um…” she wriggles about, as best she can, to test her limitations. “Not really. Some parts sting a little, and it’s kind of itchy. But that’s…” She shivers. “That’s not good, is it?” Catra tries to hide a grimace, but doesn’t quite manage it. “H-how bad is it?” She curses the way her voice trembles. She’s alive. What does she care about a few more scars when she has so many already? But she finds she can’t help her anxiety.

Catra hums thoughtfully. Her tail, longer and furrier than it had been five years ago, pets the few parts of Adora’s leg that she can still feel. She must mean to comfort her. “Well, you won’t be wearing fancy dresses to balls with your little royal pet anytime soon.” Adora shakes at her words, pressing her face into the pillow. That’s the kind of assessment she was afraid of, though not for the loss of fancy dresses. She’d never thought of any of her past injuries as disfiguring. If anything, her scars often worked in her favor getting jobs and talking up girls on shore. It’s silly that she cares so much now how her body looks, but she can’t get over it. Catra seems to sense her distress, as the caress of her tail speeds up. “But who cares what the stuck-up big wigs think? You’ll look more like a warrior now, and better yet, one that’s endured a lot and survived.” She snickers. “You could probably fight topless and wow everyone with your b…adges of experience.” Adora reaches out as best she can to push against Catra’s shoulder, eliciting more laughter. “But seriously though, Adora, it’s not that bad. You’re still healing, and we’ve both seen worse. Remember Octavia’s ugly mug when they came back from boarding that big sugar hauler?” Adora grimaces, thinking back to how the woman’s face had been scorched by fire and raked over with lead spray. Octavia had lived through the gruesome injury, but her visage had been a terrifying one from that point forward.

“She got meaner and scarier after that,” Adora recalls.

“Ugh, don’t I know it,” Catra says, rolling her eyes.

“Um, speaking of, what…”

“Happened to her and the rest of those fuckers?” Catra finishes, as something wild and dark passes across her face. “Got rid of most of them when I took over. The ones that lived either obeyed me or ran off at the first chance. She’s dead, same with Beast. Tung Lashor tried to mutiny, so I hung him from the bowsprit for the sharks.”

_That’s… grisly_, Adora thinks, but then again, life on the Fright Zone had often been so. She hesitates before she asks her next question. “And… Hordak? Sh-Shadow Weaver?”

Catra growls, actually _growls_ like a wild cat as her face contorts in a fierce, hateful expression. “Still breathing, _unfortunately_. I dueled Hordak for the right to be captain, and I won. He managed to get away before I could kill him, all thanks to that fucking witch’s _fucking_ magic. Neither of them has shown their face again in four years. I’ll find them though, eventually, and I’ll finish the job. You can bet on that.” Her clawed hand clenches into a fist on the bed. Adora covers it with her own.

“You’re the captain now,” she says, to soothe and distract. She knows Catra’s anger all too well. “Of your own ship, just like you always wanted.”

“_Two_ ships,” Catra corrects, smirking pridefully. Her fist relaxes. “The Fright Zone and the Crimson Cat. Nicked the latter from Dryl, along with its princess,” she says with a snicker. “So I guess we both have royal pets.”

The second mention jogs Adora’s memory at last. “Where’s Glimmer?” She asks urgently. “And Bow? Did they make it? Is my crew alive? Where’s the Swift Wind?”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Catra says, holding up a hand. “I think we should take that one at a time.” She reaches behind and pulls the chair up to sit in. The movement is fluid but tense. Once she sits, Catra taps her fingers against her knees and breathes quietly.

“Catra?”

“Chill out, Adora, before you hurt yourself again,” she chides. “The pretty princess is fine, aye, same with your first mate. We were able to get most of your crew and mine to safety, but there were casualties. Comes with the territory, and there ain’t nothing for it. But you can see everyone who made it out when you’re better.”

“And my ship? Where’s my ship, Catra?” Catra looks away, studiously examining the empty cup on the nightstand. “Catra!”

“It sunk, Adora! Your ship sunk,” she snaps, before cursing quietly and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Sorry, I mean… look, I’m sorry. We didn’t realize you were hauling black powder, and one of our shots broke into the cargo hold. We don’t go out of our way to destroy ships, but…” She sighs. “There was an explosion. It’s what you saved me from, actually. But it ripped the ship in half, took a chunk out of us too. The whole thing started to sink right then. We were able to get everyone still breathing to safety, but your rig was done in completely.” Catra pauses, glancing furtively at Adora, who feels like all the air in her lungs has left her.

“M-my ship… sunk? I—” A shudder rocks her frame, and the whole world seems to shake. “The Swift Wind…” She can’t breathe, gods, she can’t breathe. She’s drowning all over again. _My ship, all my things were there, my people died there…_ She feels cold, the freezing chill of ocean depths. _My beautiful ship will ice over, my crew will never be found._ “N—”

“Hey, _hey_, Adora, no.” She feels a hand on her cheek, fingers moving through her hair. The touch is warm, almost too warm. “Adora, come on. Listen to me.” Catra’s voice is strained but soft. “Focus on what I’m saying, okay?” She tries. It isn’t easy when all she can see is the Swift Wind rotting away in the darkness while fish nibble on the faces of her friends. She gasps for air, any that she can get. “You’re alright. Your crew is alright. We’ve given them the queen’s welcome here. I’m _sorry_ about the Swift Wind, but we’ll get you another ship. _You’re okay_ right now. Just breathe with me.” There’s a rushing in her ears, a loud, splintering crash, and Catra curses under her breath. “Breathe for me, Adora, _please!_ Help me help you.” Adora doesn’t know what Catra expects to get when she feels like her lungs are full of salt water. She tries though, if only because she doesn’t want to experience the pain of drowning a second time. Her throat is so tight that every breath is a battle, but she tries. “Come on, come on,” she hears Catra whisper.

There’s another crash, louder this time. Catra’s hiss of “Shit!” is nearly drowned out by the cacophonous ringing of vibrating metal. Adora sees a flash of blue before there is a sharp piercing _chink_ and _thud_, a mere two feet above her ear. Stone dust rains down on her head as her gaze moves upward. “The Sword…” There It sits, glowing and unyielding, just above her. Her eyes hungrily trace the length of the blade until it disappears into the wall. She blinks. A thought, jarringly calm, crosses her mind. _That’s never happened before_.

She thinks she hears Catra whisper something, maybe “_That damn thing again_.” Adora doesn’t pay this comment any mind. Her attention is only for the Sword. She hears Its whispers once more, and realizes how much she actually missed them in the silence. “You’re here,” she says to It, in wonder. It sings a shrill note as if in response.

She reaches for it. She doesn’t know where the strength comes from, but she reaches for the hilt and wraps her fingers around it. Instantly, she feels her back explode with pain. “Ahh!” She clenches her teeth as her body shakes, but she doesn’t let go. She couldn’t possibly let the Sword go.

“Damn it! Why does this always happen?” Catra snarls, wrapping her hands around Adora’s, trying to pull her fingers away. “Let go of that thing, Adora. It’s hurting you.”

“No!” Adora gasps, drawing the other woman’s confused stare. “I- I need it, Catra. _I need it_.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Catra says, disbelieving. She lets go of the hilt, dropping to one knee to look into Adora’s eyes. “It keeps hurting you, love. We’ve been trying to keep it away while you’ve been healing. It’s only caused you pain.”

Adora shakes her head vigorously even as tears start to leak from her eyes. “No, _no_. I need it with me. Please, I need it with me.”

Catra looks about to protest, when suddenly--- “Fascinating!” Both of them look at the door, or the place where the door used to be. All that remains is the battered doorframe and a single hinge bent beyond recognition. A short figure stands there, their form obscured by the blazing sunlight. They walk forward, and the first thing Adora registers is the outrageous amount of hair. Impossibly long, voluminous, purple hair seemingly held back in two unnatural pigtails. The next thing she notices is the dark blacksmith’s apron resting atop a deeply stained white shirt. The final thing she focuses on is the mask, a black thing without nose or mouth, only two glowing red eyes. It’s alarming, quite frankly, but not as alarming as the face of its wearer. The mask is lifted up to reveal a feminine face with big magenta eyes and a wide smiling mouth. There’s a fanatical gleam to those eyes that unnerves Adora instantly, though she can’t see any malice in the expression. This woman, whoever she is, holds a small leather-bound journal in her hand while also holding a feather quill and an ink pot in her… hair. Um… “Data log 8 for Observational Study: Weird Glowing Sword-Thing: the weird glowing sword-thing, hereafter referred to as WGST, has once again demonstrated the ability to magically locate and move towards its wielder. Furthermore, there is new evidence to support my theory that WGST is capable of positively influencing the body’s natural healing rate at a cellular level. Data from examination 12 of subject, Catra’s Friend Adora, hereafter referred to as Adora, soon to follow!” Adora can only stare open-mouthed at this woman as she caps the inkpot and tucks it, the quill, and the journal away with her hair.

Catra notices her expression and grimaces. “Adora,” she says blandly. “Meet Entrapta, Princess of Dryl. Entrapta, meet Adora.”

“Hi! It’s great to finally meet you when you’re conscious!”

“Uh… hi…”

Catra regards this princess as she approaches the other side of the bed. “Entrapta, I thought you had _this thing_,” she indicates the Sword with a glance, “under control.”

Entrapta laughs maniacally. “I did! But then, when I was studying it just a few minutes ago, it started to violently vibrate and move all its own! It jumped right off the table and soared straight through the door. It almost went through my head! HAHAHAHA!”

“You were studying the Sword?” Adora grunts, her grip tightening on the hilt.

“Yup! It’s the most amazing artifact I’ve ever gotten to examine. It’s almost certainly First Ones-related, and I’m learning more and more about its properties every day!” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Now, though, we should figure out what it’s doing to _you_. First, off with the old bandages!” She uses her hair to replace the mask she was wearing with a pair of bizarre goggles. Their lenses are configured with strange writing that Adora almost recognizes. She does this while pulling a pair of silver scissors from her apron pocket. Entrapta turns a knob on the side of the goggles, causing the lens to shift and magnify. “Let’s see here.” She pulls back the sheet protecting Adora’s modesty, earning a squeak from the woman. “Oh, there’s no need to be shy! I’ve seen it all multiple times since you went into a coma.”

“_By the gods, Entrapta_,” Catra murmurs, rubbing her temples. The princess either doesn’t hear this or doesn’t care, as her focus is entirely on stripping away bandages to reveal Adora’s naked back.

“Can you feel anything, Adora?” She asks quizzically.

“Urgh, yeah, quite a bit,” she says blandly.

“Does it hurt?!”

“Don’t sound so excited about that,” Catra growls, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Yeah, a lot.” Adora says quickly. Her back and to a lesser extent her legs feel like the skin on them is being roasted.

“That’s excellent news!” Entrapta exclaims, beaming out from her weird goggles at Adora and Catra.

“Um, how is that good news?” Adora asks before Catra can snap again, even though she’s afraid of the answer.

Entrapta throws both of her arms up in the air emphatically. “It’s the best news! It means your body is healing at a much faster rate than normal! And it all started when you touched the Sword!” In an instant, the notebook, quill, and ink are back out again, and the princess is scribbling away with her hair again as she continues to examine Adora’s injury.

“You’re telling me _this_,” Catra indicates Adora’s suffering, “Is actually a good sign?”

“A great sign! You see, when a body gets badly burned like this, the entire site is completely numb because the ability to feel pain in those areas has been burned away! No one knows exactly why but I have a theory that there are cells in the body specialized for---”

“The _point_, Entrapta, please.”

The princess pouts for a split second before going on as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “People healing from burns like this almost never feel anything at the wound sites ever again. The fact that you _are_ feeling pain where you weren’t before means that your body’s pain perception is coming back! This is great news for your recovery!” She leans in close to Adora’s body, ignoring the way she stiffens up defensively. “Yesss, I can see it now. Magic is weaving its way through the wound. The body repairs itself with magical assistance, it’s amazing! Your skin is growing back bit by bit, and the Sword is boosting your ability to fight off infection! Soon, the burnt skin will have to slough off and new, healthy skin will be there to replace it!”

Adora has no idea where she’s getting all that from, but if she’s right… “So if that’s true, how long will it take to be normal again?”

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” Entrapta hums, leaning back and rubbing her chin. “It’s hard to say at this stage, but definitely less than the years and years it would have taken otherwise hahahahahaha! I’ll know more during my next examination!” She removes the goggles at last, placing her hands on her hips. “In the meantime, we will be adjusting our previous treatment plan of keeping the sword away from you to keeping the sword with you at all times!” She reaches out and takes hold of the hilt, overlapping Adora’s hand. “And, pull!” With some effort, the Sword pulls free of the wall, sending down another cloud of dust, and Adora tucks It by her side.

Entrapta stares at her and Catra like they’ve all just had a wildly interesting intellectual discussion. Adora glances at Catra for help and gets a sympathetic wince in response. “Thanks, Entrapta. Nice to know the weird glowing death stick is actually a good thing. Now, do you mind giving us---”

“Some privacy? Oh, sure! I need to get back to my lab anyway and start cleaning up the mess.” The princess pauses, pursing her lips and assessing the broken doorway. “Should I send someone to do something about that?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Catra says with a wave.

“Okay! See you later then! Bye Adora!” She waves with both her hand and her hair as she marches back out the way she came.

The ensuing silence is awkward. “So,” Adora ventures. “She’s the princess of Dryl, huh?”

Catra snorts. “Tsch, yeah. That’s a weird ass kingdom. But, being fair, she’s been a huge help to us these past few years. Makes our ships sail farther and our guns hit harder.” Adora is reminded of the Swift Wind when she says that, and Catra must realize the implication too because she flushes. “I mean… ah shit.” She looks at Adora with genuine remorse. “Look, I wasn’t lying before. I’m sorry about your ship, Adora. Really, I am. And I’ll do whatever I can to get you another ship just as good. This isn’t how I wanted us to meet again, but now that we have…” She cautiously reaches down and takes Adora’s free hand, squeezing it. “We could finally start over, ya know? We’re both free now, we can make our own decisions at last.” _Oh how she missed those open, honest eyes_. “So… what do ya say? You and me? Back together on the high seas?”

Adora is still uncertain about a lot of things. Her situation right now is only one step up from fucked, but her friends are alive, and Catra is here. She doesn’t know what to think about the piracy yet, and she doesn’t want to think any more about her lost ship and crew, but at least she has time to figure things out now. That’s something.

She squeezes Catra’s hand back and smiles tentatively. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to get this chapter out now because it might be awhile until I can post the next one. I'm about to head into some pretty serious school stuff, so it's very likely that my time will be limited for at least a few months. But never fear, chapter 5 will be up as soon as I can finish and revise it.
> 
> Here's the link to today's song, My Son John: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-3S4ekdW24


	5. Bound by Blood, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So I took you by the hand, together swum against the flood. On the faith in which we stand, is our love, oooh! Life was not as we've planned, cos we were born and raised in mud, But we were strong, we were brave, we were bound by blood!

Sure enough, Princess Entrapta is back a few hours later to do another examination. Catra had to leave a couple hours earlier, but the princess returns when twilight falls, bringing a lantern with her to light the room. “Hi, Adora! Are we feeling any different?”

Adora has been laid on her stomach once more, with the Sword resting on the bed beside her, its words soothing her lingering anxiety. She was moments away from swearing an oath to the Drowned God to never let it out of her sight again before Entrapta came into the room.

“It still hurts, but it doesn’t feel as bad as it did before, I guess.” Her voice is muffled slightly by the pillow.

“Glad to hear it! Now, let’s take a look at our progress, shall we?” Much as she did before, Entrapta pulls back the sheet to look at Adora’s back first. Then she gasps softly. “Oh, wow!”

“What is it?”

“The healing is happening much faster than my initial estimations! Your body is already preparing to shed the damaged skin and replace it! If we remove the dead skin within the next few hours and sterilize the whole area, you might be fully recovered by the end of this week!”

“Seriously?” That’s unbelievable. She looks at the Sword quizzically. _Have you always been able to do this?_ She thinks back, trying to remember every time she sustained an injury over the past few years. These burns were an outlier, the most serious injury she’d sustained since being shot. She remembers little of what happened immediately after that. She has no way of knowing if the Sword healed her then, but it’s certainly unusual that she didn’t get a black eye from Bow punching her in Seaworthy. A sailor’s life was full of cuts, bruises, rope burns, and splinters, and Adora was no stranger to them. In fact, she hardly noticed them anymore. That’s strange, isn’t it? Has the Sword been repairing her this whole time without her realizing it?

“Yes!” Entrapta clapped her hands together. “I’ll go get my tools ready, and I’ll be back again once you’ve had the chance to eat something. I’ll make sure someone comes in with dinner.”

“…Thanks, Entrapta,” Adora says, a little reluctantly. She might not know what to make of this strange noble woman or her suspiciously comprehensive knowledge of the humanoid body, but she can’t deny that she’s glad to be in competent hands. “Hey, before you go…”

“Hmm?” Entrapta was making more notes in her little book and only momentarily glanced upward.

“How did you end up with Catra? Why did you leave your kingdom?” She’s extremely curious about everything going on here, but Entrapta’s presence is especially bewildering.

The princess shrugs. “It’s a long story, but I was on the treasure ship that Catra took. You know, the littler ship she has. She calls it the Crimson Cat, but when it was part of Dryl’s navy it was the Fearless Pursuit, I think. I was there on an expedition to discover possible First One artifacts when we were subsequently captured. I think Catra was going to ransom me first, but then I fixed up one of their big cannons, and she hired me to work for her instead. So that’s how I’m here.”

“She hired you? What do you get out of it? Surely you don’t need the money.”

“Oh no!” Entrapta says, waving a dismissive hand. “She promised me the chance to look for more First One relics, like your Sword! Whenever we found a location I marked as possible First One sites in my notes, she let me look around and catalogue my discoveries. It’s great, I’ve already found several fascinating pieces of technology and magic that I’ve been studying ever since!”

“You keep mentioning these… First Ones? Who are they?”

“I have no idea!” The princess says with a loud laugh. “That’s half the fun! It’s a hypothesis I’ve been working with in my research for years. A long time ago, miners in my kingdom opened what they thought was an old mine shaft, only to discover strange objects buried in the chamber there, things unlike anything ever seen before.” She presses her hands together as she reminisces with stars in her eyes. “I’ve been enamored with them ever since! Eventually, more artifacts turned up, all similar to what was found in that cave. I’m positive they were all created by the same people. They’re all really, _really_ old, yet they can do things that are incredible, inconceivable! Like your sword!” She exclaims, smiling brightly. “Whoever created these objects was/were powerful, and they must have had knowledge that we no longer possess. It’s been my life’s work to discover more about them, as much as I can!”

Adora stares at her, unabashedly. What kind of goddamned lunacy? _But then again_, she thinks, looking back at the Sword. _This certainly isn’t a normal weapon_. She recalls the words It spoke in Seaworthy and how she could understand some of them even though she had never learned the language. “Do… do those other things you found have weird writing on them?”

“Yes, why?” Her magenta eyes light up. “Oh! Are you talking about the writing on your sword? Yes, the symbols on the blade match ones I’ve observed on other objects! I have no idea what they mean, but isn’t it incredible? An entire dead language, lost to time! I’ve been trying to backtrack through modern tongues from across the planet to find any connections that might lead to a translation!”

Adora considers her for a moment. Entrapta is strange, yes, and obsessed with science and some really weird stuff, but she has yet to detect any malice or untrustworthiness in her. She knows that Catra would never let the princess stay if she thought Entrapta couldn’t be trusted. And if Catra is truly still her friend, then she has faith that her privacy will be respected even if she reveals the truth to the princess.

So, she takes a chance, and points to the first symbol on the blade. “Protection.”

“Huh?” Entrapta bends down to see where’s she pointing.

“This one. It means ‘Protection’. Uh, I think. And…” She moves her finger to the next character. “This means ‘Honor’.” She moves to the third word. “I’m pretty sure this means ‘a gray skull’, or something like that. And the last one…” She pauses. The last character always trips her up, because it looks less like a word and more like a name, a name that makes her blood sing when she says it aloud. “Is ‘She-Ra’.” The Sword’s glow intensifies as she says the Name, illuminating the room better than a dozen lanterns could with Its ethereal blue light. Entrapta’s eyes look especially wide and dark in this lighting.

“How do you know what they mean?” She asks softly.

Adora shifts, approximating a shrug to the best of her ability. “I don’t know. I just do. It’s been like this since I found the Sword.”

“And how did you find it?”

Adora gulps, glancing away from the princess’s encouraging gaze. “I---”

“Adora!” A shout from the doorway, followed closely by a second. Two people saying her name. It feels like a lifetime since she’s heard their voices.

Bow and Glimmer rush into the room, almost knocking Entrapta aside to get to her bed. “Oh my gods, Captain! I’m so glad you’re okay!” “Cap, what the heck, they told us you were gonna die!” “Those stupid pirates didn’t even tell us---” “That you were awake! This whole time we’ve been waiting---” “Without any news and---”

“Okay!” Adora says, loud enough to be heard over their rambling. Bow and Glimmer quiet down, but she can see them both jittering with anxiety. “Guys, I’m fine. Well, not fine yet, but I’m still alive.”

Glimmer’s eyes are wet as she kneels down next to the bed. A quick glance at Bow shows that he’s also on the verge of tears. “We’ve been so worried!” Glimmer says, grabbing Adora’s hand. “It’s been eight days, and none of us knew if you were going to be okay! It was _awful!_ Everyone on the crew was so scared!” Oh no, they’re both sniffling too. Adora gently frees her hand and reaches up to brush a tear from the Princess’s cheek.

“You were worried for me, Princess?” She says, smirking softly.

“_Of course_ we were, dummy!” Bow chimes in, roughly wiping his tears away. “We didn’t even see you when they dragged us onto their ship, and we could hardly get them to tell us _anything_ this whole week!”

“They seriously didn’t tell you I was okay?” That seems strange, given what Catra said earlier. “What have they been doing since we got here?”

“Nothing!” Glimmer squeaks angrily, throwing her arms into the air.

“Mostly they’ve just been laying around. We see some of them doing some building work, but mainly they’re just waiting around for orders from that captain of theirs. Typical pirates.”

“Have they been mistreating you? Have they hurt any of our people?”

“They’re _patronizing_,” Glimmer says, as if that’s 100 times worse.

“They locked us in their brig after the battle, but since we got here a couple days ago, they’ve just put us under heavy watch. They haven’t deliberately hurt anyone, but there have been fights.” He crosses his burly arms. “We really thought you were dead or about to die, and our side’s been itching for a rematch ever since.” He pauses. “And yeah, they’re patronizing too.”

Adora rolls on her side with some effort, hissing quietly through the pain. “I’ll talk to Catra about that. In fact, hey Entrap… where’d she go?” The purple-haired princess has mysteriously vanished without trace. There is a note on the nightstand that Adora grabs and opens. “_I’ve gone to send someone to bring you food. I’ll be back with my tools when the sun sets! Try to relax before then!_” The message is paired with a small, cutesy drawing of Entrapta smiling and using her hair to hold a variety of little gray instruments.

“We’ve seen her walking around this place, but I haven’t been able to even speak to her. I can’t fathom why she would possibly be working with these cretins. Dryl has a troubled enough reputation as it is without their Princess being a known buccaneer.” Glimmer shakes her head disapprovingly.

“Never mind her,” Adora says. She looks to Bow. “You said there were fights? Was anyone injured?”

“No more than usual, fortunately.” He shrugs. “Worst thing was a broken nose.”

“That’s something, at least. Were you… able to save anything from the Swift Wind?”

Their faces say it all, and her throat burns. “I’m sorry, Adora,” Bow says regretfully. “There wasn’t time. We were sinking so fast, and then the pirates took us away in bonds.”

“We did try,” Glimmer says, squeezing her hand. “Everything was being thrown around when the powder exploded, including us. We couldn’t even keep our feet under us.”

Adora swallows hard. “It’s alright. Thank you for trying.”

The ensuing silence is harsh. She tries to breathe through both her pain and her grief. She tries to tell herself it doesn’t matter, that the Swift Wind was just a ship and it’s more important that most of her people survived. But the Swift Wind was _her_ ship. She had loved its every oddity and scratch, its coarse riggings and splinter-covered masts. She even misses the leak in her cabin ceiling that always let in rain water during storms. She doesn’t know how she’ll ever replace the Swift Wind. Captains went down with their ships for a reason. She should have saved the rest of her crew and drowned on her sinking deck, that’s what a good captain would have done.

She feels a smooth fingertip brushing under her eye and snaps back to the present. Glimmer’s smile is so soft, and she shows Adora the tear she just wiped away. “I can’t imagine how awful you must be feeling, Adora, but the most important thing is that you’re alive. We lost the Swift Wind, yeah, but we still have our captain. Everyone will be so happy just to know you’re okay.” She takes Bow by the hand too and pulls him down to their level. He’s smiling too, and he rests his free hand over theirs on the bed.

“She’s right. We’re still here, and that’s what matters most. We’ve lost friends, and our ship, but we haven’t lost each other. As long as that’s true, we can get through anything, cuz we’re the best dang team that ever sailed these seas!”

“Yeah, there’s none better than us! Because we’re the Best Friend Squad!” Glimmer’s impassioned exclamation is met with a whoop and a high five from Bow.

Adora laughs at their antics. It feels strange to laugh, but so good to do so. She feels a weight lift off her burned shoulders and thinks that maybe she can relax again, if only for a moment, here with her friends.

“Well, I’m glad to see the atmosphere around here is livening up!” The trio look around and see Scorpia walk into the room, carrying a tray. “I’m Scorpia, by the way,” she says to Glimmer and Bow. “We haven’t had a chance to introduce ourselves yet. I’m Captain Catra’s first mate!” She beams as she either ignores or is oblivious to the tension her entry instantly creates. “And I brought dinner!”

She bustles over to the nightstand, moving carefully around Bow and Glimmer. “Ope, there we go. We’re still sticking with light foods right now until you’re better, so I hope you like fish soup!”

Bow and Glimmer look ready to fight, and Adora has to quell them with a look. “Thanks, Scorpia. Where’s Catra?”

“Off finishing up her tasks for the day. She’s always working hard to keep this place running.”

She picks up the bowl in her oversized pincers, but Glimmer practically snatches it from her grip. “_I’ll_ take care of it,” she says abrasively.

“Oh, okay!” Scorpia chuckles, unfazed. “I’ll leave ya to it then. Just leave the dishes on the tray when you’re done.”

She turns to leave, and Bow looks meaningfully at Adora, nodding subtly in Scorpia’s direction. Adora just shakes her head, and when she’s sure the pirate is out of earshot, she says, “I’ll talk to Catra myself when she comes here. Better to hear the truth directly from her.”

“You think she can be trusted to tell it? How do you know her anyway?”

Adora sighs. “You know how I told you both I was raised on a pirate vessel?” They nod. “Well… it was that same ship that attacked us. And Catra… Catra was my best friend there.” _More_, she thinks, but she doesn’t want to get into that right now. “She’s the only person I ever missed from that life.”

“And now she’s the captain,” Glimmer says darkly.

“Now she’s the captain,” Adora agrees.

“Sooo, is that good news or bad news for us?” Bow asks.

Adora takes a deep breath as she considers her answer. “She said she wants to start over with me, and that she’s sorry about sinking the Swift Wind. I believe her, but…”

“She’s still a pirate,” he finishes knowingly. Adora nods.

“I don’t know what to think about that yet.” She exhales briskly. “But until I’m back on my feet, it hardly matters. I have faith that she won’t order us to be locked up or killed. Once I have my health again, I’ll try to work things out from there.”

They don’t look convinced, but neither of them contradicts her. “Here,” Glimmer says, holding up a spoonful of soup. “Can you lift your head to drink this?”

Dinner is a quiet affair, and a little bit embarrassing. The angle makes it difficult for Adora to get the spoon into her mouth, but Glimmer is patient and Bow takes out a handkerchief to wipe up any soup that spills. It’s a team effort to help her drink some lukewarm water.

The Princess is setting the bowl and cup back on the tray when both Catra and Entrapta walk in. “I’m back!” Entrapta cheerfully exclaims.

“Hey Adora, Glitter, Arrow boy,” Catra purrs, smirking on the look of outrage on Glimmer’s face.

“Hello, Catra,” Adora says dully. “Scorpia said you were busy with work.”

“Finished it,” Catra says, shrugging. “Besides, I wanted to be here for this.”

“For what?” Bow asks.

“It’s time to scrape off all the burnt skin!” Entrapta sighs brightly, as if she didn’t just describe something absolutely horrifying. Catra grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Time to do what?!” Glimmer says, angry and incredulous. “You’re not getting anywhere near her!” She marches forward to block Entrapta from approaching the bed.

“Huh?” Entrapta looks bewildered. “But we have to get the skin off before it scars. It’s the only way to get the body to heal completely.”

“Calm down, Sparkles,” Catra snaps. “We’re not here to hurt Adora, we’re here to help.”

“My name is _Glimmer!_”

“Who cares? Move aside before I have you both thrown back in the brig!”

“Glimmer, it’s okay,” Adora says loudly, cutting off the argument. 

The Princess turns sharply to face her. “But---”

“No buts. Let Entrapta work. I’ll be alright.” It takes Bow gently pulling Glimmer back by the elbow to make her move, but she does eventually, finally allowing Entrapta to get to the nightstand.

“I’m glad to see you’ve eaten your dinner,” she tells Adora as she uses her hair to move the tray to the floor. “Energy is important! I wish this process was easier, but we have to make do. Catra!” She snaps her fingers.

“Yeah, yeah,” the woman drawls, sauntering forward. She pulls a bottle of whiskey out of her coat pocket and shakes it. “Liquid courage,” she tells Adora with a smirk. “It’ll help the pain.”

“Not exactly the finest numbing opium, is it?”

“Opium’s expensive, babe. But if you’re good, maybe I’ll go steal you some.”

“Har har,” Adora deadpans. 

Catra uncorks the bottle and helps her hold it between both of their hands. “Can you still take it straight like you used to?”

“…Do you want me to make a joke?”

Catra snickers. “Best not. Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself. Drink,” she commands. Adora does. It’s hardly the Queen’s cellar stock, but she grits her teeth and bears the burn, all while she hears Entrapta rustling around in the background.

“Bow and Glimmer told me there have been fights between your people and mine,” she ventures as she stops to breathe.

Catra shrugs. “A few. Don’t get your breeches in a knot though, no one’s dead. We’ve separated the ones inclined to swing fists, and there hasn’t been any trouble since. Drink.”

The second swallow is easier by degrees. “Be honest with me. Are my people being mistreated? Are they being pushed around by yours?”

Catra frowns. “You know you’re all still technically our prisoners, right? Until you’re on your feet and we can negotiate this, we can’t let you guys wander around our base unsupervised. It’s enough of a breach of security that those two are allowed to mosey about,” she says, jerking a thumb at Glimmer and Bow. “But we’re not starving them or lashing them or anything. I ain’t Hordak, ya know.”

Adora exhales slowly. “I know you aren’t, Catra, but I---”

“Have to be sure. Yeah, I get it. They’re fine, Adora, and the sooner you’re patched up, the better they’ll be. Are you drunk yet?”

“Um, maybe some more?”

Catra smiles again. “Coming right up.”

Eventually, she lets herself sink into a woozy haze. Her eyelids grow heavy as Catra and, begrudgingly, Bow roll her carefully onto her stomach once more.

“I recommend having someone hold her down,” Entrapta says. “The stiller she stays, the easier this will be.”

“Hear that, Adora? We’re going to have to hold you down, alright?”

Adora nods dazedly. She feels sharp nails tease against her neck, brushing back sweaty strands of hair. Catra and Bow then brace her arms against the bed, after taking the Sword away and propping it next to the nightstand, where it hopefully won’t have cause to start moving on its own again.

“Okay, we’ll remove the bandages first.” She feels the constriction around her body loosen up gradually with every snip of the scissors.

Bow winces and helplessly pats her elbow when he sees the burns. She might hear Glimmer gasp in the background, but it’s covered up by her first mate saying, “Cap, you must be the hardest person to kill I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks for that, Bow. I’m very flattered.”

“Gods, why does this need to happen again?” Glimmer asks, sounding sick.

“See all these blisters and scabs. Those are bad. Her body is healing much faster than normal, and we don’t want those to scar over, so we have to get rid of them,” Entrapta explains matter-of-factly. There’s the sound of tools rustling again, and Adora hears Glimmer suck in a breath, while Bow’s grip on her arm tightens.

“You’re sure about this, Entrapta? Really sure?” Catra asks, sounding strained. Adora wonders why, out of morbid curiosity, but she doesn’t move.

“This is the only way to guarantee a seamless recovery. The magic coursing through her body is strong, but not strong enough to repair injuries this severe on its own. Make sure to hold her steady.”

“Maybe you should take another drink first, love,” Catra says nervously.

“Or finish the bottle,” Bow mutters.

Adora shakes her head, irritated by their stalling. “If this is going to fix me, I want to get it over with as quickly as possible. Entrapta, you can start… whatever it is you’re about to do.”

“Alright, here we go.” She feels the bed dip and vaguely perceives the weight of something resting against her back. “3, 2, 1.”

Adora screams. She can’t stop herself. It feels like she’s being whipped and dragged over hot coals at the same time. She’s aware of Entrapta moving in a sweeping back-and-forth motion, moving up and down her shoulder blades. She reflexively tries to buck off the offending object, only to find resistance to her movements. “That’s why I said hold her steady!”

She might scream for minutes on end, until her voice is hoarse, she isn’t sure. There comes a point where she can’t scream anymore, and is reduced to just a writhing, whimpering wreck on the bed.

“Hold on, Cap, it’ll be over soon,” Bow says, grunting with the effort of keeping her pinned down.

“Still strong as an ox, I see,” Catra growls. “Just keep breathing. We’ve got you,” she soothes while pressing both hands and a knee down on Adora’s forearm.

“When I move down to the legs, I’ll need all three of you to help,” Entrapta says without pause. She’s tearing apart Adora’s lower back inch by inch, and she doesn’t sound bothered in the slightest.

“Oh gods, oh gods, Captain!” Glimmer sobs somewhere off to the side.

“If you can’t handle this, then get the fuck out and bring someone else,” Catra snaps. 

There’s a forward stomping of feet. “I’m not going anywhere, you stupid cat! She’s my captain and I’m here for _her_!”

“Then shut the fuck up and do as you’re told!”

“_Hmph!_”

When Entrapta finally stops working on her back, Adora is drenched in sweat. She wonders how her skin isn’t so slippery that Bow and Catra lose their grip on her. She finds herself too tired now to do much more than twitch and shudder, but the princess of Dryl still summons Glimmer to assist them. “Princess Glimmer, please switch with Mister Archer-man and hold down that arm. Mister Archer-man---”

“_Bow_.”

“Bow, come down here and hold her ankles.” Adora’s eyes are shut through this changing of the guard, but she recognizes the softness of Glimmer’s hands when they push against her. Bow’s big hands enclose her ankles, pressing them into the mattress. She tries to find security in that, any measure of safety she can. “Okay, here we go again.”

She doesn’t know if it hurts less this time or if she’s just too out of it to notice as much, but the legs are easier. It might be because Entrapta is making smaller and fewer strokes this time, covering a lot less ground. She still has to dig her teeth into the pillow to muffle herself. She feels a hand petting her head but doesn’t know whose it is.

“Almooossst donnnne. There we go!” Adora’s entire body goes boneless with relief at this proclamation. “Only one more step!”

“What?”

“Sterilize and wrap!”

“Hang on--- AAGGH!” She buries her whole face in the pillow to muffle another shout of pain. Entrapta just covered the entire back of her body with a searing cold sheet soaked in acid.

“It’s highly refined corn liquor, actually!” She hears the princess say brightly. “Diluted with some water, of course, to maximize its effectiveness! We’ll leave that on for just a minute while I get the bandages ready.”

_Just a minute, just one more minute_, she tells herself. Bow, Glimmer, and Catra release her at this point, moving out of the way. Entrapta busies herself with her tray of tools on the nightstand, and Adora lifts her head to see the princess drop a stiff-bristled, gore-soaked brush into the bowl of water on the tray. It’s the last straw as it turns out, because her eyes roll back and she immediately falls limp.

The last thing she hears is, “She stays up through all of that just to faint out of squeamishness? The fuck, Adora?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting this out. Like I said before, school is A Thing at the moment and I'm busy pretty much 24/7. But! I'm happy to present the first part of this chapter. It was getting so long that I decided to break it into two chunks. Part 2 will come at an undetermined but hopefully close future date.
> 
> Song for this two-parter, Bound by Blood by Paddy and the Rats: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Wtp1aLkdOw


	6. Bound by Blood, Part Two

Much of the next three days are a blur, but, true to Entrapta’s predictions, she feels something close to okay come the evening of her 11th day as an invalid. She can roll over and sit up now, and even limp a little around the hut. The princess tells her enthusiastically about how well her new layers of muscle and skin are growing. Every time they discuss it, Adora is glad she’s been eating light foods.

It’s Scorpia that comes to check in on her this night. She walks through a hastily installed new door, bringing dancing lights and raucous music in with her. “Hiya, lassie!” She greets brightly. “I’ve heard you’re back on your feet at last!”

“Something like that,” Adora says. “What’s going on out there?”

“Party!” Scorpia exclaims. “Catra’s called for a whole feast to be put together for everyone, our crew and yours. I’ve come to see if you’re well enough to join us.”

“Um, let me see.” She carefully moves to the edge of the bed and turns her ankles around a few times to stretch them. “Ok, here goes nothing.” Her legs shake when she puts weight on them, and she has to lean on the nightstand for balance, but she stands.

“Perfect! I’ll help you the rest of the way.” Scorpia wraps one of Adora’s arms over her shoulder, avoiding the sharp points, while she braces one of her massive claws around Adora’s back.

“Wait!” Adora exclaims. She stops Scorpia with her free hand. “I can’t let them see me like this, needing someone to help me walk.”

“Huh? Let who see you like this?”

Adora gulps nervously. “Your…” _Pirates_. “People, and mine too. I can’t look weak in front of them.”

“Whaaat? Where’s all this coming from? Why do you think they would care?”

“Scorpia,” Adora says, staring up at her bluntly. “You’re a pirate. Everyone on your side is a pirate. And I’m still your prisoner.”

“Aannnd you think this means we think you’re weak? Or what, that we’ll hurt you while you’re vulnerable?” The woman frowns deeply. “Uh, look, I know we didn’t exactly make a great first impression, but our people here are good. Pirates, true, but decent folks deep down. You’ll see that soon enough. Things are tense right now, but that doesn’t mean we’re suddenly going to attack the people we’ve been trying to keep alive this past week. One, we’d never do something like that, and two, Catra would never let that happen.” She peers down at Adora, considering. “Wildcat said you two grew up on the Fright Zone together, under its old captain and crew.” Adora nods stiffly. “Did they do things like that?” Adora swallows and looks away, which is answer enough. Scorpia sighs. “I get it. That’s hard, Adora, real hard. But I swear to you it’s not like that here. You’ll see. It’s all fine.”

Reluctantly, Adora lets Scorpia lead her out of the stone hut. The night is dark, but there are plentiful torches stuck into the sand. The grains are warm between her bare toes as she takes wobbly steps with assistance.

“How big is this place?” She asks, peering around in wonder at the sheer size of the space before her. This isn’t some odd little dot of land sticking out of the waves. They are walking on a vast beach that stretches far in both directions. In front of them is an entire town, with rows of wooden buildings set up in clumsy lines, far enough from the coast that they are unlikely to hit by the tide. A great dark jungle looms in the distance, its foliage so dense that she can’t see through it in this light. She notes that some of the trees must have been cleared at some point, because there is a wide path cutting through the flora, leading off to… somewhere.

“Big enough,” Scorpia says humorously. “We’ve been able to build an entire base of operations here over the past couple years. We’re still fleshing out the village and repairing the old fort, but it’s a lot more civilized than it was even six months ago.”

“There’s a fort here?” If there is a fort, a real military installation, then why is this island not on any maps? She’s sure it isn’t, otherwise she would have marked it on their route to Salineas. It doesn’t do to lose track of entire land masses as a woman of the sea.

“Mmhmm, real old one too. Was damn near falling apart when we found it. I think Entrapta estimated it hasn’t been occupied in something like a thousand years. So lots of dust and cobwebs, to say the least! It’s down the road that way.” She jerks her head to indicate the path Adora noticed earlier.

They walk a ways further before Adora finally asks, “So how did you meet Catra?”

“Oh ho,” Scorpia says, chuckling. “Now there’s a story! So, I was on this boat, right? Not a good boat, definitely a bad boat, and I was locked up in the cargo hold with a bunch of other folks to go to the slave markets on Beast Island. It was pretty bad, but the next I know, boom! The slave ship is being attacked by pirates! I take the opportunity to steal the keys from one of the guards, after I break his neck of course, and I start freeing everyone in the cargo hold. I lead them up onto the deck where we ambush the slave ship’s crew from below. The battle didn’t last very long once we got there, but when it was over, Catra came over and invited me to sail on her ship! And I’ve been with her ever since!”

“Fascinating. You lot make a habit of liberating slaves, I take it?”

“Aye! Every chance we get. Most of the people here know what it’s like to be held in bondage, so we don’t take kindly to flesh racketeers when we find them. Oh hey, we’re almost there, look!”

She points toward a grouping of torches about a hundred yards away. Adora can see from this distance, a number of long wooden tables set up in a row. Lots of people appear to be milling about, and it doesn’t look like a fight’s about to break out, at least.

They’ve almost reached the edge of the group when they hear a familiar voice. “Ah, here she is! The woman of the hour!” Catra saunters out from the group and strolls up to them. She’s wearing’s her bright red shirt again, though it looks clean and pressed, and she smirks at Adora and Scorpia. “Now the festivities can begin!” There’s a raucous cheer from the band of brigands and some nervous clapping from Adora’s crew. “I’ll take it from here, Scorpia. Thanks.” Catra gets on Adora’s other side to support her.

“Sure thing, wildcat!” Scorpia lets Adora go and gives the two of them a jaunty salute before she joins the others in sitting at the various tables.

“Good to see you up and walking around my island,” Catra purrs in Adora’s ear as they make their way slowly to a smaller, nicer table set apart from the others. “You like the place?”

“It’s very impressive,” Adora concedes. Catra’s body is warm and solid, and she can’t help but lean into it. “I can’t imagine how you found it when it’s not marked on any maps.”

“Lucky coincidence, mostly, and a bit of Entrapta’s obsession with looking for weird, old stuff. And hey, an island no one knows about has many advantages.” Her nose brushes against Adora’s hair, which had been recently washed and brushed with the help of Glimmer. “I’m glad you were able to come,” she says. “I have some pretty cool news to share, and I wanted you to be here when I announced it.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. A shiny new business opportunity has cropped up, and I think it will be the start of a beautiful partnership between the two of us.”

“More piracy?” Adora asks, trying to mask her unease.

“Only of a very special kind,” Catra says with a toothy smile. “But let’s eat dinner first before we get into that. Here’s our stop.” She helps Adora settle onto an ornate, almost throne-like seat before sitting on a similarly ostentatious chair next to her. The table has already been set to buckling with food. Silver platters of roasted meat are complimented by bowls of hot, dark bread and sumptuous fresh fruit. The other tables in front of them are similarly covered in an obscene amount of food and drink. Several bottles sit in the space between Catra and Adora’s plates, and Catra gestures to them. “What do ya fancy? More whiskey? Or maybe wine for a change?”

“Wine, I suppose. More whiskey might turn my stomach,” she says wryly, earning her another smirk. Catra yanks the cork out of the wine bottle and pours dark red alcohol into both hers and Adora’s glass. “Where did all this come from?” She indicates the bounty before them.

“All over,” Catra says with a shrug. “We stole the plates, hunted the meat, traded for the fruit, and…” She looks quizzical for a moment as she appraises the wine bottle. “I think we nicked this from Seaworthy. Yeah, when we raided the slaving ships.”

“It’s quite a lot to roll out for one dinner.”

“This isn’t just any dinner, Adora. This is a celebration!”

“Of what?”

“Of new friendships!” She takes in their combined bands with a sweeping gesture. “Of abundant opportunity!” She takes Adora’s hand and brings it up to her lips, placing the gentlest kiss on her knuckles. “And the chance reunion of the century,” she purrs, smiling when Adora’s cheeks flush pink at the gesture. _That hasn’t changed in the last five years_, she thinks. Catra continues to hold her hand as she calls to the others. “No more dilly-dallying, lads! We feast!” The crowd cheers again, and the pirates immediately dive into their food. Adora’s crew looks more apprehensive about eating. She sees Bow and Glimmer sitting stiffly next to each other, clutching silver forks tightly in their hands and looking to her for guidance. “You can tell them it’s not poisoned,” Catra whispers to Adora. “It’s hardly a party if half the guests aren’t participating.” She sips her wine and nods in their direction.

“Go ahead and eat, guys,” Adora calls to her crew. She too takes a long sip of her wine, to show them it’s okay. They follow her order reluctantly at first, but once they all take a few bites and conclude that they are not, in fact, being poisoned, they dig in more vigorously.

She lets Catra load her plate with a thick cut of smoked salmon, a large piece of the bread, and a shining green apple. It’s good cooking; the fish is perfectly done, and the bread is rich and slathered in soft, salty butter. She takes a bite of the apple and feels the juice run down her chin. Catra has served herself two hefty legs of some kind of poultry, and is popping dark purple grapes in her mouth between bites. She lounges in her seat and looks out over the feast like she doesn’t have a care, but her fingers play very deliberately with the end of Adora’s sleeve.

Adora regards her as she takes another sip of her drink. “Did you really duel Hordak?” She asks.

Catra viciously rips a piece off one of the legs. “You’re damn right I did,” she says while chewing. “I was winning too, finally getting him back for what he did. Until the skull-faced bastard cheated!” She tosses the stripped bone back onto her plate, but then her angry look changes to a vindictive smile. “But then I took his ship and his crew for mine, as was my right. It hasn’t changed, ya know, the Fright Zone.” She pauses. “Well, okay, that’s not entirely true. It smells a _lot_ better now.”

Adora snorts, narrowly avoiding spraying wine on her dinner. “By the gods, I’d forgotten about that,” she chuckles. “It was because of that stupid cook and his rotten fish obsession.”

“Uggghhh, I still can’t stomach tuna _or_ sardines. And that gray muck he called oatmeal? Disgusting!”

They’re both laughing now, and it feels _so_ good, almost like they had never been apart. She had missed how open and happy Catra looked when she laughed sincerely.

“I can’t believe you kept that awful figurehead,” she tells her, pushing against her shoulder.

“What! That’s a great figurehead!” Catra protests, pushing her back. “It’s on a _pirate ship_, Adora, not a nanny little fishing sloop.” She smiles crookedly then, looking evilly at Adora. “Don’t tell me you’re still quaking in your sheets over a little wooden witch,” she sneers, raising her hands up in the air and waggling her clawed fingers menacingly. “Ooo, the gallant captain Adora, fearless seafarer, scared stiff by a _statue_!” She laughs raucously until she gets a hand shoving her cackling face backward for her efforts.

“Watch it,” Adora says with a lopsided grin of her own. “Or I’ll track down every mouse on this island and put them all in your room!”

Catra hisses and pretends to bite one of her fingers. “Okay, okay, I yield. No more jokes about the _scawwy, scawwy witch_.”

Adora scoffs, preparing to retaliate again, when she hears a deep throat-clearing. She and Catra stop their antics to turn and find one of Adora’s crew, her quartermaster, standing in front of them. “Begging your pardon,” he says nervously, before looking solely at Adora. “Cap, on behalf of all of us silly tars that have worked under ya these past years, I’m so damn happy to see ya’s alive.”

Adora’s heart swells. She smiles gently at the man, reaching out and squeezing his calloused fingers in hers. “Thank you, my friend. It makes me happier than you know to see you all alive and well too. Our voyages aren’t over yet.”

“Aye, Captain!” He removes the raggedy cap from his head and holds it to his chest. The rest of her crew rises to their feet, echoing him. “**_Aye, Captain!_**” They cheer, the first sign of real enthusiasm they’ve shown all night. Her quartermaster returns to his seat, but he’s quickly replaced with other well-wishers. Some are tearful, others regard Catra with lingering resentment, and others are just jubilantly beaming. They shake and kiss her hand, remove their hats and bandanas, and all of them tell her how relieved they are that she’s okay. Catra watches their procession wordlessly, sipping her wine and finishing off the rest of her grapes.

One of the last people to approach the table is a dark-skinned woman that looks vaguely familiar. She has a fresh-looking scar under her right eye, from a welt or deep cut perhaps. “Do I know you?” Adora asks.

The woman, who was looking at Catra previously, glances at her. “I’d sure hope so, since you coldcocked me in the face with my own gun.”

Adora blinks. Oh… “Uh, well…” Her eyes flit around awkwardly before resettling on the woman. “I’m not going to apologize for that, if you’re waiting.” Catra snorts next to her.

“Tsch, wasn’t expecting it, no.” She reluctantly extends an arm. “I’m Lonnie, the Fright Zone’s new cooper.”

“New?” Adora asks as they shake hands.

“Lonnie joined up in Seaworthy, after we shot the lock off her cage,” Catra explains briefly.

“You were a slave?”

Lonnie shrugs nonchalantly, but the angry twist of her mouth suggests it’s a bitterer subject than she lets on. “Used to be, but ain’t anymore,” she says dismissively. She withdraws her hand from Adora and crosses her arms over her chest. “Cap,” she says to Catra. “We’re outta rum at three tables. Permission to grab more from the storehouse?”

“How did we run out of rum at three tables, cooper?” Catra asks suspiciously.

Lonnie gives her a look. “You know how. Goatface and the weird lizard girl again. For a stick figure and an overgrown gecko, they can put away a lot.”

Catra sighs. “Yeah, go get some more, but they’re cut off for the night, got it? I do _not_ want a repeat of the quicksand incident.”

“Aye aye,” Lonnie says with a lazy salute before strolling off into the town.

“The quicksand incident?” Adora inquires quietly.

Catra just holds up a hand to stop her. “There is not enough liquor on this island to get me to relive that disaster. I think it’s time to make my announcement anyway.” She gets to her feet. She thunks her empty goblet on the table and calls, “Now listen up, you mugs! All of ya!”

Once she has everyone’s attention, she pulls a roll of parchment from her waistband that Adora somehow missed before. She shakes it in the air. “We snagged this little bit of news the other day.” She unrolls the scroll and reads aloud. “By royal decree of Princess Mermista, acting ruler of Salineas, a bounty of 75 gold pieces is hereby placed on the head of every flesh salesman active in Salinean territory. This includes all peoples in charge of or involved with any slaving operations within Salinean borders on land or sea. Those who wish to pursue this bounty must bring the culprits, dead or alive, to the capital and present them to Admiral Sea Hawk of the Royal Navy to collect the reward. Any interested parties will be granted the full support of the Crown, including an official writ listing their respective duties and privileges, which they will receive upon turning in their first bounty. Yada yada, gods save the Princess, blah blah.” She rolls up the parchment again and walks around to the other side of the table.

“My friends,” she says, holding the paper up still. “We have been given the keys to the castle. In three days’ time, we set sail for Salineas. We’re going to walk right into the Royal Palace and present Princess Mermista with our warmest regards and an offer she will be ill-advised to refuse. In exchange for doing what we do best, under the full protection of the Crown, we’re going to be set up here for good. Land, sovereignty, all the spoils we can tear out of those bastards’ grubby hands.” There’s a rumble of approval from the pirates. “We’ll be the richest band of blaggards from here to the Kingdom of Snows! And…” She uses the decree like a rapier, pointing it at them all. Catra’s lips are pulled back in a smile that more closely resembles a snarl. “We will kill every last master, every last overseer, and every last _fucking_ slaver that ever _dared_ to cross these seas! Are you with me?!”

Roaring cheers erupt from the brigand band. They all get to their feet, clapping and whooping. Adora can hear some of them whistling while yet more slam their fists against the tables. Her people, conversely, look more confused than anything, and are mostly sitting awkwardly. Only Adora seems to pay this any mind however.

“Drink up, me boys!” Catra calls again to the carousing throng. “In three days, we sail!” She tucks the parchment back in her belt and turns to grin at Adora.

“That was bombastic,” Adora says, accepting the hand that Catra extends to her.

“Mmm, of course, you know I have a flair for the dramatic, and nothing beats a good speech,” Catra purrs as she helps Adora stand. “Come on, I’m feeling a quieter party now between you and me.” If her implication isn’t clear in the words themselves, the way she holds Adora’s waist certainly gets the point across. Adora feels her face heat again, and she allows the other woman to escort her away, though not before she checks in with Glimmer and Bow.

“Make sure nothing bad happens,” she whispers to Bow.

“Sure, if you can find out what the heck’s going on,” he responds. She pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. She can feel Glimmer’s gaze on hers and Catra’s retreating forms for several yards back down the beach.

She waits quietly until she’s pretty sure they’re out of earshot of anyone at the party before she asks, “So what was that really about?”

“Hmm?”

“The royal decree, the big speech. Are you seriously going to walk straight into the palace? Just like that? And what does any of it have to do with me and mine?”

“You and yours need a new ship, don’t ya?” Catra says flippantly. “Once the Princess understands what an asset we’ll be to her cause, negotiating one of the jewels out of her navy will be nothing. With you and I at the helm, we’ll be unbeatable.”

“But _why_ are you going to her at all, Catra? You’re awfully eager to make a career change all of a sudden.”

“Why so suspicious of me, Adora?” Catra says, stopping them next one of the shacks, well away from prying eyes. “We kill a lot of slavers, and we’re good at it. That’s reason enough to pursue getting paid for it.”

“I’m not suspicious, I just need to know what’s going on and where _we_ stand.” She punctuates this by wrapping her hands around Catra’s biceps. She stares openly into mismatched eyes and speaks honestly. “Look, Catra, whether we try to ignore it or not, you attacked my ship. You didn’t have any reason to think we were transporting people, otherwise you wouldn’t have ordered a full artillery assault on us. You attacked us because we looked rich and easy to beat. It’s what pirates do, it’s just the way it is, I know. But now you just suddenly switch up your targets after you attacked us? What’s that about? What is your game here?”

“Why are you blathering on and on if you’re just going to answer your own question?” Catra snaps.

Adora blinks. “What?”

Catra growls, running a hand roughly through her mane of hair. “Jeez, you just said it yourself, idiot. Why am I switching targets after I attacked you? It’s _because_ I attacked you.” She squeezes Adora’s wrists and pulls her close until they are chest to chest. “Do you know what that moment was like? When I saw you dying in front of me for the second time? Do you have any idea?” She blows out a harsh breath, and there are pinprick tears in her eyes. “And afterward, when no one was sure you’d ever open your eyes again, _gods, I!_” She sucks in air through her nose, sniffling. “And if you had died, it would have been because of me, because I attacked your ship and you were so stupid that you used your body as a shield to protect me!”

“Catra, hey,” Adora says, freeing her arms and wrapping them around Catra in a hug. “I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you.” Catra clings to her in response, and she doesn’t care how much the pressure irritates her injuries. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about this now. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No,” Catra says, her voice muffled against Adora’s shirt. “No. You were… you were right to ask. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, but that isn’t fair to you.” She tucks her head under Adora’s chin so that her nose is pressed into the nape of her neck. “When I thought you were going to die, _again_, it was the greatest fear I’d ever felt in my life. I thought the Drowned God was giving you back to me just to snatch you away again and make it all my fault. It’s been a long 11 days, Adora, and I’ve had nothing but time to myself to think about what happened. Think and watch you fight for your life in that bed. I realized some things during that time, and one of those revelations was that I didn’t want to attack another ship again, if the consequences could be so…” She gulps loudly, and then lets out a breathless chuckle. “But I’m a pirate, you’re right. I’m the captain of two pirate ships, for gods’ sakes. I’ve never done anything else, so I’m making a compromise. I broke them free of their chains, and I can’t leave them behind to flounder now.”

“I understand.” Her crew might not be a battalion of liberated bondsfolk, but she would never dream of abandoning them even for a moment. She might talk a big game of leaving sailors too drunk to stand behind at port, but she never actually lets them stay behind. The ardent devotion she feels for them is the same commitment that beats in Catra’s heart even more intensely. “You’ll set them on the ones holding the whip instead. Makes sense.”

Catra pulls back, grinning briefly. “I thought so too. So, now that you’ve figured me out, are you still on board with this?”

Adora leans her head down until their foreheads are touching. “It’s not just up to me. My crew gets their say too. If any of them want to leave, I’m going to let them.”

“Fair enough.”

“And I have to get Glimmer safely back to Bright Moon in 11 months, or Queen Angella will not only withhold my pay but hunt me to the ends of Etheria.” This comment makes Catra snicker.

“No problem. Anything else?”

Adora bites her lip, thinking. Catra’s eyes follow the movement and linger there. “Just… promise me we’ll keep being honest with each other like this,” she says, lifting Catra’s chin with one finger. “Whatever we’re thinking or feeling, I keep you in the loop, you keep me in the loop, alright?”

“Aye,” Catra murmurs, her irises darkening. “If that’s all, let’s seal the deal then, Adora.”

Her lips taste like wine and salt. They’re chapped, just like Adora’s, and they’re the best damn thing she’s tasted all night. She groans softly into the kiss, pressing as close as she possibly can. She hasn’t had a good kiss, a _real_ kiss like this in months. Catra is just as eager, opening her mouth to Adora’s teasing tongue. The night is warm, and their bodies are hot. The heat draws Catra’s attention to Adora’s skin. She presses her mouth against her chin and then down her neck, relishing in every inch she can get while Adora kisses the rim of one long, pointed ear.

When teasing hands play with the laces on her shirt though, Adora gently stops them. “What’s wrong?” Catra asks instantly, ceasing her ministrations. “Are you still in pain? Do you want to stop?”

Adora sighs, pressing their foreheads together again. “Yes, and yes, but not for the reason you think.” She shuts her eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. When she opens her eyes again, Catra is there watching her, hanging on her every word. “I want you,” she says bluntly.

Catra’s mouth twitches upward. “I’m glad I wasn’t reading your tongue down my throat incorrectly.”

“But not tonight. Not yet,” Adora continues. She kisses the other woman on the cheek. “We just found each other again after being apart for five years. We were kids the last time we saw one another. There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and a lot you don’t know about me.” She smiles. “But we finally have time again to learn, and I want to cherish it. I don’t want to rush right now. I just want to be with you.”

Catra looks surprised at first, then content. “I want that too, no matter what pace we move at.” She glances in the direction of the infirmary hut. “Would you be okay coming to bed with me, though? I can’t imagine you’re looking forward to another night in that place.”

“Ha, yeah, I’d much prefer a change in scenery, thanks.”

Immensely pleased, Catra laughs openly. “Let’s go then. We rest tonight, and tomorrow we start preparations for the voyage. To Salineas!”

“To Salineas,” Adora repeats as they walk together into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a break from school right now, so I will be working on chapter 7 very soon.
> 
> Note: Coopers are people who make things like barrels, buckets, wooden troughs and the like for a living. They were commonly employed on ships.


End file.
